


Between Two Teachers

by AOBZ



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, F/F, Happy ending as always, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn, cis females, no magic, teacher-student heart-to-hearts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 66,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOBZ/pseuds/AOBZ
Summary: Emma has recently returned to Storybrooke for a teaching position at Storybrooke Primary School, trying to escape from the pain of her past. As she attempts to help a little boy with his own emotional problems, she finds she gets more than she bargained for in the form of an adorable 10 year old boy and his beautiful Latina mother.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate version of the prompt given to me by yukiheart19 on fanfiction.net. If you would prefer to read the original prompt where Regina is G!P, please go to fanfiction.net, same title, same author.
> 
> I decided to do an alternate version of the fic here on AO3. This version contains CIS gendered, lesbian women, who eventually (spoiler alert!) fall in love. If you only want to read about two women without mention of any kind of cock/male anatomy, then it is safe to proceed. This will be the last mention of male genitalia in this fic.

Emma adjusted her shirt for the umpteenth time that morning, trying desperately not to feel nervous and failing miserably. She was once again the new kid- well, not a kid, since she was an adult but nonetheless, she was new- and she was feeling all those old feelings of anxiety and insecurity. She shouldn’t, she knew that. There probably wasn’t going to be anyone in this school who would pull on her hair, or call her names, or make fun of her clothes. Nonetheless, Emma worried. She chewed on her lower lip, reminding herself that she was an adult now. There was nothing to worry about. She was a professional now. She was a teacher.

A teacher.

She was finally living her dream of teaching at a primary school, her old primary school no less (one of them, anyway), teaching English to (hopefully) eager fourth and fifth graders. Emma swallowed down her fears and anxieties, those old _what if they don’t like you, what if you don’t fit in_ s coming back to haunt her.

The kids didn’t scare her. Oh no. Emma was good with kids, understood them. The teachers, however. They terrified her. She had no idea if she’d fit in with them, no idea if they’d be nice or if they’d be cruel and snobby and exclude her, especially once they learnt that she’d been a high school drop-out who had only recently graduated. What would they say if they learnt of her past?

Emma had spent a few years on the street as a teenager instead of focusing on her studies, doing less than legal things (luckily never getting caught) but getting close enough to finally scare her straight a few years ago. She'd returned to school, working nights and weekends and basically any spare moment she had trying to save up to afford just one more class, one more textbook. She'd shown up for her courses bruised and battered and tired after spending yet another sleepless night chasing a bounty. But the pay was unlike any other, and she was _good_ at it, could have made a career of it, but that wasn’t what Emma wanted. She wanted to teach, so she persevered and eventually put herself through teacher’s college. She was a fighter, a survivor. She was no longer that homeless, lonely girl who was always hungry and dirty, looked down upon and rejected, unwanted by society.

She shouldn’t be worried about the other teachers, Emma reminded herself as she got into her car. She was a completely different person from that girl and these people _wanted_ her. The school had come after _her_ before she had even finished her degree. She knew the reason they wanted her had a lot to do with the principal, one Miss Mary Margaret Blanchard, who had been one of Emma’s favourite teachers (she had kind of taken Emma under her wing when she’d been her seventh grade teacher, becoming a substitute mother at school). When Miss Blanchard – no, Mary Margaret, Emma corrected herself, _you’re no longer my pupil, Emma. Please call me Mary Margaret when there are no students around_ – had learnt that Emma was due to graduate in June of last year, she had reached out to her and offered her a teaching position at her school. Emma knew teachers were in high demand, and she could easily have found a position at a more prestigious school, with a better paying salary, but there was something comforting about returning to quiet Storybrooke and knowing that her favourite seventh grade teacher was there waiting for her.

So Emma had packed her bags right after graduating, had moved in with Miss Blanchard – _Mary Margaret –_ upon arriving in Storybrooke, and spent the next two months becoming reacquainted with her old teacher (who really was only twelve years older than her) and the town that had once been her home. It had been a blissful two months, and they had flown by quickly. Emma had prepared herself for today, had gotten herself ready two hours early before taking the route to Storybrooke Primary School, butterflies fluttering nervously in her belly. When she arrived, Emma parked her car in the parking lot. She then headed up towards the front of the building, where she identified herself to the front office, before being escorted to the principal’s office. It was strange now, to be headed there for reasons that didn’t involve the bruises on her body, or the fact that she was always hungry, or that she was sleeping in class _again_. Emma shook her head, a smile coming easily to her face when she spotted the woman who had so eagerly welcomed Emma back into her home and into her life.

“Emma! So good to see you. Thank you, Ariel, for bringing Emma to my office.”

“It was no problem, principal Blanchard. Nice to meet you Miss Swan.”

“Did you find your way here okay?”

Emma chuckled.

“Even if I hadn’t spent the last two months exploring this place again, this town is the size of a peanut and nothing has changed. I’d have had no problems finding my way back.”

Mary Margaret smiled warmly at Emma. She walked over to her new English teacher, nodding at her.

“Well, good. You look very smart this morning, Miss Swan. I believe the children will love you.”

Emma grinned.

“I’m hoping so, though I’m not too worried about the kids. It’s the other teachers that make me nervous.”

“Don’t worry about them. The faculty here is very kind.”

Emma wanted to believe her, the problem was, Mary Margaret was nice to everyone and believed everyone was kind. Emma, in her life, had experienced the exact opposite. People scared her, worried her, and she was wary of them. Trust did not come easily to Emma like it did to Mary Margaret.

“I’ll show you around the school quickly, but then I have to get going. The first day of school is always incredibly busy. Most children will start arriving around eight thirty, and you’re expected to arrive at eight at the very latest in the morning. You’re welcome to arrive earlier, but given that this is the first time you’ve woken up before ten since you arrived, I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you here at eight and not a minute sooner.”

Emma gave a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, not much of a morning person.”

“That’s fine. There’s a coffee machine in the staff room that you’re more than welcome to use. It’s the first stop on our tour.”

Emma’s ears perked at the words, nodding eagerly as she followed Mary Margaret. She had downed a coffee this morning, but she was definitely keeping that information for future reference. If she could sleep for an extra few minutes by grabbing a coffee at school, she was most certainly going to do that.

“Wow, this is really nice,” Emma complimented, taking a look around the sizable room.

“I took great care to make the faculty lounge as warm and inviting as possible for my staff. Your job is stressful and you’re underpaid and underappreciated. The least I could give you was a comfortable place to relax. You don’t have to come here, some of the teachers prefer to stay in their homerooms, but it would be a great opportunity for you to meet your colleagues if you did eat here, at least for the first couple of weeks.”

Emma nodded her head, wondering if she’d be able to make friends here. As a kid, she’d had a very hard time making them. It was hard to develop any kind of friendship when you were being bounced around from place to place, even harder when you were the new kid and you wore hand-me-down clothes that were two sizes two big and about two decades out of fashion. A lot of Emma’s memories of school weren’t very good, but Storybrooke Primary School had been one of the better places she’d been at. The teachers had been pretty kind and the kids, well, they hadn’t taunted her, and that was the most Emma could ask for at the time. The kids had accepted her into their groups when she’d been assigned group work, though they never invited her in outright, and they didn’t put up a fuss when the teachers asked them to show her around or to explain something to catch her up to the rest of the class. They didn’t make fun of her for not knowing the answer, and a few even helped her along by whispering it to her. She wondered if any of her old classmates still lived in sleepy Storybrooke or if most of them had moved away.

Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by Mary Margaret inviting her to follow her as she began a quick tour of the school. Truth be told, Emma vaguely remembered where things were still (she hadn’t wanted to visit the school before today, too afraid she’d panic and run if her anxiety got the best of her), and the more she walked around, the more her memories returned. Emma remembered the squeaky floorboard in the music room, the door handle that stuck in the janitor’s closet in the girl’s washroom (why that hadn’t been repaired, Emma had no clue). The walls had been painted and some of the classrooms had changed location (and had magically gotten smaller than they had been when she was 12), but for the most part, everything was the same. Well, except for one glaring difference.

“What’s with all the Spanish?”

“This is a bilingual school now,” Mary Margaret stated, confused. “I told you that.”

“Yeah but like, I thought you meant bilingual as in there we a lot of Hispanic kids.”

There had been a lot of them when Emma was here too, but there was definitely no signs or posters plastered along the corridor walls when she was here. Not that she minded or anything, she always liked the Spanish language, thought it was cool that some people could speak two languages (and she _loved_ Mexican food), but it was really strange to see the abundance of Hispanic presence in her formerly English only school.

“There are, but this is also a designated bilingual school. We have a Spanish Immersion program, where some of the kids do their core courses in Spanish and their extra-curricular activities in English.” 

“Uh, I’m not going to be teaching English to like, non-native speakers am I?” Emma asked. She was definitely not qualified to do that.

Mary Margaret laughed at Emma’s terrified expression.

“No, Emma. You’ll be teaching English to kids who are fluent in English, though some of your students will be Spanish speaking as well. The kids who are still learning English though are in a separate program altogether. We have teachers who are specially trained for that.”

“Oh thank God. I mean, I can get by in Spanish. I wouldn’t starve in Mexico, but I definitely can’t have a full on conversation or anything.”

Mary Margaret chuckled.

“Don’t worry. We don’t expect you to.”

Relieved, Emma followed the woman on the rest of the tour, looking around and taking note of the Spanish signs posted around the school. Everything looked the same, save for the bilingual signs everywhere, and Emma thought briefly to herself that this would be a good opportunity for her to learn the language.

“Okay, come on. Some of the teachers will have arrived by now. I can introduce you to a few of them so you at least know some names before I have to be off.”

* * *

Regina straightened her skirt as she headed up the steps to the school at which she’d been teaching for the last eleven years, flattening her palms against her blouse as she opened the door. She breathed in the familiar scent of the primary school, a smile touching her lips as she headed directly towards her classroom. She would be teaching the little ones this year, only the second time she'd have a kindergarten class, but she was incredibly eager. Normally, she taught history to the older Spanish Immersion children, but she’d put in a request for something new this year, something different. She was nervous, admittedly, for such a drastic change, but the idea of teaching Spanish through songs and rhymes, the opportunity to revisit her culture through children’s stories was an incredibly enticing one. Regina was certainly going to have children whose mother tongue was Spanish, but that was okay. They would help her as she taught the English speakers to learn her native language. It would be a bit of a challenge to balance having half of a class who spoke the language fluently and the other half who were still learning, but it was a challenge Regina was eager to take on.

She headed to her classroom, smiling at the decorations that adorned its walls. Bright colours with the names of each of her students was written in bold underneath, giant pictures of animals (also with the Spanish names above, below, or beside) occupied one side. Big, colourful numbers and letters plastered about on another. The lower half of the back wall were full of cubbies with each child’s name written inside. Above were pictures of each child and their date of birth, clustered together by month so that they could easily be celebrated through the year. The rug she had chosen for the classroom was dark blue with an alphabet border. Huge windows replaced what would have been the fourth wall, letting in an extraordinary amount of sun, lighting up the classroom and illuminating its walls. It was a small room, but it was inviting. Regina had spent the last of her vacation days decorating in preparation for her new students. It had been exciting, getting ready for her “kids”, gathering supplies and music CDs and story books. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if Henry had decided to help her.

The smile on Regina’s face faltered slightly at the thought of her son, who had recently discovered his adoption and was none too pleased with her for not being forthcoming about it. She had chosen to wait until he would be ready to hear the news, until he was old enough to accept it, but he had found out on his own (he had always been too curious, too inquisitive) one afternoon last month when he’d been rifling through some of the boxes at the back of her closet. He had discovered her carefully guarded secret and had reacted atrociously, and no amount of grounding or stern talks or reproachful speeches stopped his admittedly hurtful words. She had been prepared to listen to him, to hear him out, to talk to him about it, but she would not allow him to disrespect her as he had. And now, now she feared what this coming year would bring. He had always been such a good student, an eager learner, but with this new development he had declared that he hated school, that he didn’t want to be anywhere near her, that he _didn’t even get a break from you because you even teach at my school!_

Regina took a deep breath and pushed those memories to the back of her mind, swallowing down the wave of hurt that they brought. Her neighbour and colleague, one Mr. David Nolan, had been her saving grace in all of this. He’d helped Henry with his anger and his lashing out, bringing the boy home and helping to discipline him when he ran away. He had agreed to start bringing Henry to school in the morning, given that the boy no longer wanted to come early and hang out with his mom in her classroom as he had done in previous years. David was the school gym teacher and therefore had no homeroom, so he arrived at eight thirty right with the bell. It was a good arrangement, perfect even, despite the fact that it hurt Regina to know that her little boy hated her so much.

* * *

Emma was excited. Things were going great for her, and for once in her life she felt at ease in her day to day routine. She got along swimmingly with Mary Margaret both at home and at school (she’d been worried spending so much time together would make them hate each other), and she had even managed to make a few friends by taking her roommate’s advice and having lunch in the faculty lounge. Her students were awesome, engaging, and surprisingly well behaved. It had taken her a week to learn everyone’s name, but now that she had, it was like she had a secret hold on them. Whenever one acted out, all it took was saying the child’s name and they stopped. Emma was loving being a teacher, incredibly happy with her decision to go back to school and achieve her dream. The only thing that concerned her as time started to go on was the student in her class who barely spoke, who seemed to grow more quiet with time rather than less. Emma had first attributed his lack of speech as timidity, shyness in the face of a new teacher, a new classroom, but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into a month, Emma grew concerned.

Quiet, or altogether silent, children didn’t necessarily mean there was something wrong, Emma knew that. They could just be shy or uncomfortable having attention thrust upon them, but on occasion, quiet meant there was something the child was trying to hide, a secret they were burying, trying to make themselves invisible in the hopes that no one would notice. Emma _always_ paid attention to the quiet ones, as well as the kids who acted out, because they typically tended to be the kids who had a secret to hide. Not that Emma ignored the other children, of course not, but those two categories of kids were definitely more on her radar. She had been one of those kids, one of those students who sank into her seat, who never spoke unless forced to, who tried to blend in with the wallpaper and Emma vowed she would never let a kid disappear like she had done so many times before. And as time progressed and there was no change in the boy’s behaviour (other than the sharp, whispered words he occasionally exchanged with the kid seated in front of him), Emma grew more and more uneasy. Something was going on with Henry, and the weeks progressed, Emma began to see the signs of an angry child, a hurting child, start to come out. He wasn’t undernourished, as Emma had stopped by at lunch time to see his meals. He wasn’t falling asleep in class, and he was obviously bright as so far all his test scores were in the A-B range. She couldn’t see any outward signs of abuse (though that definitely didn’t mean they weren’t there, Emma knew that). There was nothing obvious about him, but there was _something_. Emma just hadn’t quite put her finger on it yet.

Emma tried to get the boy to talk, tried to win his trust so he would tell her what was wrong, but he dodged her, avoided her, gave her non answers. He was good at deflecting, but Emma knew all the tricks and she kept at him, refusing to give up. He spoke to no one but the boy seated in front of him. Emma thought this was a good thing, observed from her own seat at the front of the class, but she quickly changed her mind when she realised how angry their expressions looked when they spoke to one another. She suspected something bad was going to happen if she kept them so close, so she began a new seating chart. But, the day before she could implement it, Henry chose that day to finally express himself.

“I hate you!” Henry screamed, launching himself at the boy in front of his desk. “Just shut up! I hate you!”

Emma reacted instantly, pulling Henry off of the boy he had jumped and sending them both to the principal’s office. She was vibrating, on edge all day until she could get home and approach her roommate. She talked to Mary Margaret about each of them that very night ( _Henry is a lovely boy,_ Mary Margaret had said, _he’s just having some problems at home right now, and Nicholas, well, he’s being raised by an overworked single father so he isn’t getting the discipline at home that he should be)_ , asking her for her advice on how to handle the situation. Teacher’s college had definitely not prepared her for fist fights between ten year olds, and Emma would take all the advice she could get.

“I’d sit everyone down and have a long talk about bullying, about respect, and about tolerance. I’d lay down the ground rules, in case you haven’t already done it, and make it perfectly clear that you won’t be accepting any kind of fighting or bullying or disrespect in your classroom.”

Emma was nervous to approach the topic, but her chat with Mary Margaret had definitely helped. So, armed with videos on bullying and memorised speeches and as much confidence as she could muster, Emma forewent her grammar lesson for English 5B and instead spent the entire lesson discussing the topics of respect, bullying, and acceptance. She had made it abundantly clear that there would be absolutely zero tolerance of name calling or bullying of any kind in her classroom, and she felt confident the message had gotten through when the lesson had finished.

She had been blissfully incident free for the two weeks following her bullying intervention day (though Henry still refused to talk to her, Emma was not giving up), but one cool afternoon in mid-October found Emma once again yanking Henry and Nicholas apart on the school grounds, just as the school let out for lunch.

“Hey! What did I say about fighting?!”

“We’re not in your classroom, Miss Swan.”

 _Oh, you cheeky bastard_.

“You know full well that isn’t what I meant, Henry. The rules apply to the entire school grounds, _not_ just my classroom. Heck, they apply everywhere. Do you seriously think you can just beat people up on the street and you won’t get in trouble for it? Guess again, buddy. To the principal’s office with both of you.”

She dragged both boys to Mary Margaret’s office, the woman giving each of them a disapproving look before excusing herself to speak privately with Emma in the hallway.

“What happened?”

“Dunno, neither are talking. Caught them both fighting in the school yard though. Again. Last time it was Nicholas who started it, calling Henry all sorts of names or something and talking shit about his mom.”

As soon as she mentioned the word “mom”, a flash of something crossed Mary Margaret’s eyes but disappeared before Emma could even really be sure it was there.

 “Emma, language,” Mary Margaret finally said reproachfully.

“Sorry. But that’s what he did.”

The woman nodded.

“Alright. I think it’s time to bring in the parents. We had a zero tolerance policy for fighting, and this time, unfortunately, I have to do something about it.” Mary Margaret glanced at the clock. “I’ll call Nicholas’ dad. He should be having his lunch in about an hour, but maybe he can come a little early. Will you go get Ms. Mills from kindergarten C? It’s in the Spanish Immersion wing.”

“Ms. Mills?”

“Yes, Henry Mills’ mother.”

“Henry’s mom works here?” Emma asked, surprised. How had she not known this?

“Yes. Now will you please go get her? She’ll want to hear about this.”

“Alright.”

Emma made her way down the halls to the SI wing, counting down the classrooms until she finally reached the room labelled ‘Kindergarten’, under the Spanish sign _educación infantil-_ what? Infant Education?

Emma shook her head. She didn’t have time to contemplate the confusing words.

She gently pushed open the door, her eyes immediately finding Miss Mills in the group, kneeling down, singing along and clapping with the children as they sang a song Emma only barely understood. When her eyes landed upon the woman, Emma’s breath caught in her throat.

Her mystery woman.

The mystery woman Emma had been trying to meet was Ms. Mills? Henry’s _mom?_ Fuck.

There had been a woman Emma would see every once in a while around a corner, down a hall, outside. She'd only ever catch a glimpse of her, never see her for longer than a few seconds. At first, Emma had actually thought there was a ghost haunting the school, but she’d seen the woman too often for her not to be real.

Emma had had no clue who this phantom woman was, only that she was absolutely gorgeous and Emma wanted to meet her. But, she had had no one to ask who this ghost woman was because every time she saw her, she was gone before she could point her out.

Emma had actually tried asking Mary Margaret once, but the woman had gotten quiet and said she had no idea who Emma was talking about. Emma’s inner lie detector had screamed that the woman was being untruthful, but Emma had felt unable to confront her about it. She was still being careful, treading lightly, as Mary Margaret was currently letting her live in her house for next to nothing. The housing market in Storybrooke was atrocious at best (not that Emma could afford anything, not yet anyway), and the places that were for rent were currently available for a reason. Unless she wanted to move into a city forty miles away (which, no thank you), she’d have to be careful not to upset her roommate to the point that she got kicked out.

She had then tried to ask Ruby, but the woman had shook her head and said she had no idea who she was talking about. Admittedly, a sexy woman with dark hair who disappears like a ghost was not much to go on. Emma had given up asking, instead roaming the halls trying to find this mystery woman. She'd never actually gotten the chance to explore the Spanish Immersion wing, but now that she had, Emma was elated to realise that she had found her ghost.

Emma took the opportunity to observe the incredibly beautiful Latina in all of her glory, dancing on the spot as she sang with the children who surrounded her. There was a pile of cloths next to gorgeous brunette, and the woman was currently dancing a black one in front of her body as she sang with the children to an admittedly upbeat tune.  

_“Negro, negro, me gusta el negro. Negro, negro es el mejor color. Me gusta el negro, ¿sabes por qué? Es porque es el color de mi gato.”_

She then dropped the cloth to the pile next to her, clapping with the children as the song finished.

“¡Muy bien, niños! Very good, guys! You did so well. Now everyone put on your coats, Miss Lucas will be here soon to bring you to the bus.”

Emma’s heart fluttered as the side profile she’d had of Miss Mills quickly changed, allowing her to take in the woman’s delicate features head on.

“Miss Swan,” the woman greeted, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“How do you know my name?” Emma sputtered. She'd only just learnt that Ms. Mills even existed and yet she knew Emma by name?

“It’s not exactly a national secret. Now, I’ll ask again, why are you here?”

She wasn’t exactly being aggressive, Emma noted, but there was something almost… defensive about her tone.

“Uh, Mary- I mean, Miss Blanchard sent me. Henry’s been in a fight again.”

Regina frowned, anger (and maybe disappointment?) flashing across her face before she adopted a neutral expression. 

“Miss Mills? Will you help me with my jacket, please?”

Regina’s shoulders relaxed before the little girl, her eyes falling to her tiny face. She smiled immediately at the little girl, who struggled with her zipper.

“¿Cómo se llama?”

“Um, chaleca?”

Regina’s soft giggle made Emma’s stomach flutter.

“That was a good try. Cha-que-ta. A jacket is una chaqueta.”

“Chaqueta,” the girl repeated.

“Muy bien. Yes, I can help you with your chaqueta.”

Regina gently reached out and zipped up the girl’s coat, assisting the others while Emma waited by the door. She was greeted by Ruby, one of the women who had been nothing but friendly to Emma since they’d first met. The woman was in charge of assisting teachers during breaks, at recess, and when it was time to ship the kids onto the buses. Ruby often came to collect the children and walked them to the area they needed to be.

“Miss Lucas is here. La señorita Lucas está aquí. Vamos, niños. Hagan cola.”

Emma watched, stunned, as the children queued up and waited patiently for Miss Mills to speak again. The woman gave them each a warm goodbye (hugging the children who requested one), telling them she’d see them all tomorrow. When the last of the children had made their way into the hallway, Ruby smiled at the women and waved.

“Bye, Regina. Bye, Emma. See you guys tomorrow.”

 _So her name is Regina_ , Emma thought to herself. _Good to know_.

“Later, Rubes.”

“Goodbye, Miss Lucas.”

Emma then turned back to the brunette, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

“So, we should probably head back to Miss Blanchard’s office. We can go together if you want.”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my way, Miss Swan. I have worked here for longer than you’ve had a teaching degree. I do not require your assistance for such a simple task.”

Emma flinched, though she knew she had no reason to. She had worked hard for her degree, and she was turning out to be a pretty good teacher, despite the fact that she was still in her first year.

“Geez. I was just trying to be a nice person.”

“I do not need any more nice people in my life, Miss Swan. Now please exit my classroom and tell Miss Blanchard I will arrive shortly.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

 _Bitch_.

The pretty ones were always assholes, Emma thought, disappointed as she returned to Mary Margaret’s office alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The boys were suspended for the rest of the afternoon, a punishment Emma had never understood. How did being sent home constitute a punishment? Going home was like a reward, unless you had a really shitty home life or a super strict mom, which Emma had secretly wondered if Henry suffered from both. His mom, after all, was a total asshole. And incredibly bitchy. Poor Henry. No wonder he seemed so miserable.

“What’s with the frown, buttercup?” Ruby asked, dropping down beside Emma on the faculty couch.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a nothing face.”

Emma sighed.

“Had a run in with the kindergarten teacher. Henry’s mom. She’s kind of a bitch.”

Ruby hummed in response.

“She can be, if you get on her bad side. Don’t feel bad if you are though. Pretty much everyone is. She doesn’t really like anyone or have any friends here.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Emma said wryly. “I wasn’t on any of her sides before, but apparently now I’m on her shit list. I didn’t even do anything. I just suggested we head to the principal’s office together and she about bit my head off.”

“Why would you bring her there? Mary Margaret and Regina hate each other. Like, most people here just don’t like Regina. And she doesn’t really like anyone else. But M&M and Regina _hate_ each other.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that. Mary Margaret never told me that.”

“It’s old news. Nobody really talks about it anymore. That’s probably why she was bitchy.”

“What happened?” Emma asked.

“M&M started some rumours about her when they were both in teacher’s college and basically ruined Regina’s reputation; she lost all her friends. People made fun of her pretty bad apparently. She ended up moving and going to California to finish her studies after that. When her dad got sick a few years later, she came back, this time with a baby and a bitchy attitude.

“You know, I used to know Regina when we were younger. She was a few years ahead of me, but she was like the nicest person ever. She used to walk me home after school. She'd play with me at recess even though I was a little kid and the shit I came up with was probably totally lame to her. She babysat me for a few years too. I really liked her, but then all that shit happened and she became distant, wasn’t allowed to babysit me anymore, and then she left. When she got back, she was like a whole different person.”

Emma frowned, confused. Regina had been nice? What had happened to make everyone turn on her and change her? Emma knew what it was like to be made fun of, to be singled out from the crowd and to be ganged up on. Being attacked like that had made Emma into an angry kid. It wasn’t fun. It sucked, actually, and being taunted made you feel alone and lonely. The thing was, Emma had lost that anger with time and with a lot of therapy. Obviously Regina hadn’t, it had turned her into a bitter person. And incredibly angry, bitter person.

“What were the rumours about?” Emma asked, curious.

“I don’t really know. I was in my first year of high school when all that stuff happened, and to be completely honest, I just never wanted to know. I didn’t wanna know what horrible things people were saying about her back then because I liked her. Even though she’s kind of a bitch, I still like Regina. I remember how nice she was to me,” Ruby said with a shrug. “It kind of endeared her to me. I have a soft spot for her. So why were you trying to bring her to Mary Margaret’s office anyway?”

“Henry got into a fight.”

“What? Seriously? Regina’s Henry?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? He’s like the sweetest kid ever. I can’t imagine him getting into a fight.”

Emma furrowed her eyebrows.

“Henry Mills?”

“Yes. He’s like, the nicest, sweetest kid ever. Always got something good to say, never talks shit about anyone. He’s so much like Regina used to be before all that stuff happened.”

“Wow. That doesn’t sound like the kid in my class. I mean, he’s not a bad kid. And he’s good at English. But he’s been kind of prickly with me and doesn’t get along with the other kids. He’s been getting into fights and has kind of secluded himself from the class.”

This time, it was Ruby’s turn to frown.

“Something’s wrong then. That doesn’t sound like Henry at all. I don’t interact much with him now that he’s older. Fifth graders don’t really need help getting to their buses or to the cafeteria, so I guess I didn’t notice. But Henry is a smiley, bubbly kid, and he’ll talk your ear off if you let him. He’s a happy kid usually. You should try talking to him to find out what’s up. Get him to open up.”

“I’m not sure he likes me enough to do that.”

“You’re his English teacher. He loves English class. Loves fairy tales and reading and fantasy. He writes too. And he’s pretty good. He has a wicked imagination. Talk to him about his writing. Maybe he’ll open up.”

Emma nodded.

“Okay. Thanks. Maybe I will.”

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch period. Emma gathered her things, ready to make her way to her homeroom in order to start planning the rest of the week’s lessons. She waved to Ruby, making her way to the fridge to grab her bottle of juice, and stopping abruptly when she came face to face with one glaring brunette, familiar scowl in place.

“Regina.”

“It’s Miss Mills. Now would you please remove yourself from my path? These are heavy.”

Emma could see the woman struggling with the box of frozen popsicles she currently held, given that she was also balancing what looked like an incredibly heavy box of crafts on her hip. Without thinking, Emma reached out and grabbed the box of brightly coloured art supplies, putting it on top of the paperwork she had been holding.

“Miss Swan-”

“Shit, that _is_ heavy. What are you painting? Bricks?”

“You will relinquish that box, Miss Swan. Immediately.”

“Come on, Regina. Let me bring this to your class for you. It’ll be my way of saying sorry for earlier.” _Even though you’re the one who owes me an apology_.

Sometimes it just wasn’t worth it. Emma knew she wasn’t in the wrong, but if saying sorry is all it would take to clear the air between them both, then why not simply apologise? Emma hated conflict, both in her personal and her work life. She didn’t like feeling on edge, feeling tension, and that’s exactly what she currently felt with Regina. She wanted the feeling to disappear, and if all it took was an apology, deserved or not, Emma was willing to pay such a small price. She had just started here. She didn’t want to already have a conflict with a colleague, not if she could help it. Besides, Ruby’s earlier explanation about Regina’s past made Emma kind of want to get to know her better (maybe she could help Regina, especially since Emma knew what it was like to be singled out), and she couldn’t do that if Regina hated her.

“Besides, you can watch me struggle to carry it the whole way. Isn’t that more fun than you struggling yourself?”

Regina narrowed her eyes, but the anger that had been there just seconds ago lessened. Apparently Emma’s little joke, at her own expense, had helped.

“Very well.”

Regina led the way in silence, Emma biting her lip as she wondered if she should say something. What could she say? She wondered, following Regina down the hall to the Spanish Immersion wing, if there even was a safe topic to discuss. Maybe she should talk about Henry. Most parents loved talking about their kids.

“So, I hear Henry is quite the writer,” Emma said, by way of conversation.

“As his English teacher, I should hope you would realise this for yourself and not rely on others’ opinions to form your own regarding my son’s writing abilities.”

Emma bristled at Regina’s abrupt tone. She bit her cheek rather than respond. Okay. Apparently that wasn’t a good subject right now. Maybe Regina was still upset that Henry had gotten into a fight earlier and didn’t want to discuss him.

Emma continued thinking, wondering if she should lower herself to discussing the weather, when they suddenly found themselves before the kindergarten class. The women walked into the room, Emma placing the box of frozen treats on counter and turning back to Regina. She should just be honest, she decided, and confront the problem between them.

“Listen, it seems we got off on the wrong foot. I didn’t realise you and Mary Margaret hated each other, but I spent a lot of time talking to Ruby and she told me that-”

Emma, who had been watching Regina carefully, immediately cut herself off when she saw the woman’s face contort into a near murderous glare. Regina immediately swooped in on her, finger raised as she spoke, voice dripping with venom.

“My business with Miss Blanchard is _my_ business,” Regina’s voice lowering dangerously the more she spoke, anger quickly filling her, “and it will not be discussed, certainly not by someone like you. You know _nothing_. You may take your books and your empty apologies and remove yourself from my classroom.” 

“What-”

“ _Now!_ ” Regina pointed her finger to the door, the vein in her forehead throbbing as her voice boomed in the small classroom. “Get out! I do not ever want to see your face again, Miss Swan. Leave!”

Emma blinked, taking a step backwards by sheer instinct. How the hell had things turned so bad so quickly? How had they gotten to this point?

“¡Lárgate!”

The furious jab of Regina’s finger towards the door left no room for interpretation. Emma knew exactly what she was saying. She turned, heading towards the door as her head swam with confusion.

The second the door closed, Regina whipped away from it, tears building in her eyes. She blinked them back, focusing on her fury and not the ache deep within her heart. How long would she be tormented by that stupid woman’s inability to keep her mouth shut? How long would people continue to gossip about her, all these years after Mary Margaret had blown her secret? Would she ever be free from their hurtful comments? From their stares and whispers and pointed fingers? When would she _finally_ stop being a source for gossip for the faculty at her beloved school?

Regina wiped at her eyes, telling herself to calm down. The children would be here soon, and she needed to focus on that, not on the fact that yet another new faculty member was being informed of the gossip, of the rumours surrounding her. And Ruby- Regina bit her lip to stave off the hurt she felt- Ruby, who she had loved, platonically, like a sister, but had loved nonetheless, was the culprit, the source of the gossip. Regina trusted her, was the only person in this school that she allowed herself to be vulnerable with, to be kind to, and she had betrayed her.

Regina sniffled, furious, as she began unpacking the box of crafts. _This_ was precisely why she never allowed herself friendships, because just when she let her guard down, others took advantage and hurt her. She would never be rid of her past, of the rumours, and Regina vowed from this point forward that she would not allow herself to make the same mistakes again. She didn’t need friends; she didn’t need anyone else. And the ache in her heart that that thought caused was most certainly not hurt, or devastation, or loneliness.  

* * *

After what happened in Regina’s classroom, Emma stayed far away from the Spanish Immersion wing, and she spent as little time in the faculty lounge as possible (though this was probably not necessary given that Regina rarely went in there). But still. It was better not to cross paths with the woman Emma was sure would rip her head off the next time she saw her. Emma still wasn’t sure what she was going to do about what had happened with Regina, what she’d do if they were suddenly to run into each other. And as the days went by, her wariness of the other woman slowly began to wane (though it didn’t disappear completely), but still she wasn’t sure what to do. But she had other things to focus on for the time being, like figuring out what was going on with Henry.

Armed with Ruby’s advice, Emma waited patiently for the chance to talk to Henry about his writing. She tried in class, but she was immediately shot down as the boy looked around at his peers to see if anyone had heard the questions. Emma quickly understood the message: don’t ask in class. So she hadn’t, had tried getting him during recess, but still the boy avoided her, secluding himself from the others with his notebook in hand, slapping it closed the second Emma got close.

Emma bid her time though, and the perfect opportunity for her to talk to Henry presented itself one afternoon at the beginning of November, just as Emma was headed to her car, getting ready to go home. She found Henry sitting by himself on one of the swings in the playground (they definitely didn’t have that when she attended Storybrooke Primary School), backpack in the sand next to him, looking down at his feet as he dragged them around. The schoolyard was empty, and Emma had no idea why Henry was outside by himself, especially given that it was so cool out. It wasn’t cold, per se, but it was definitely too cold for the kid to be out here on his own without a jacket.

“Hey.” Emma greeted, shrugging off her coat as she sat on the swing next to the boy. She held it out to him, shaking it at him when he didn’t grab it. “Take this. It’s cold out.”

“I’m not wearing your coat, Miss Swan. That’s a girl’s coat.”

“Nobody’s gonna think it’s a girl’s coat when you’re wearing it.”

“It’s red.”

“Boys wear red. Plus it’s leather. Leather is badass. Put it on.”

He looked at her skeptically.

“Want me to tell your mom you’re out here brooding by yourself without a coat?”

That caused the boy to scowl and grab the coat in irritation. He didn’t need to know it was an empty threat, Emma still hadn’t spoken to Regina and definitely wouldn’t for this, but Emma smiled when her trick worked. Henry pulled on the jacket, but he refused to zip it up. Emma shrugged. _Pick your battles_.

“You didn’t have to bring her into this.”

“Into what?”

“This. I’m just sitting here minding my own business.”

“What’s wrong with bringing up your mother?”

Henry scowled, looking away unhappily.

“Alright. You don’t wanna talk about her. Wanna talk about why you’re out here by yourself then? Without a coat?”

“I have a coat.”

“Yeah, my coat. Where’s yours?”

Henry shrugged. Emma sighed. _This_ was the kid Ruby said was so sweet?

“What’s up with you, kid?”

“Nothing.”

“I was talking to Miss Lucas. She said you were the sweetest kid in this school. Not really feeling it lately. You’ve been upset. Frankly, you’ve been pretty cranky.”

“I’m not five. I don’t get cranky.”

“You’re being pretty cranky right now.”

Henry glared at her. He shot up from the swing, grabbing his backpack and walking away from her.

“Hey, stop,” Emma called out, as he was heading to leave school grounds. “You can’t just leave, kid.”

“I don’t wanna stay here.”

“Fine. Go find your mom. Ask her if you can go to Granny’s with me for a hot chocolate.”

Henry stopped, suspicious.

“Why are you gonna bring me for a hot chocolate when I’ve been rude to you?”

“So you admit you were being a jerk,” Emma said, eyebrow raised.

“You can’t call me that.”

“I think I just did. Plus, school’s over. I’ll call you what I want. And you were being a jerk, and you deserved to be called out on it. I call ‘em like I see ‘em, kid.”

“You’re a weird adult.”

Emma threw her head back and laughed.

“You’re not wrong. Run inside and ask your mom. I’m freezing out here.”

Henry hesitated for a moment before giving in. He liked going out to Granny’s, and if he waited too long, maybe Miss Swan would change her mind. He did like her, even though he hadn’t talked to her all that much. She was nice, funny, and her classes were interesting. And if she was offering a free hot chocolate, he’d be dumb to turn it down. And Henry, well, sometimes he did dumb stuff, but turning down free hot chocolate was definitely not one of them.

“Okay.”

Emma waited, feeling like an idiot for standing alone outside. She suddenly wished she hadn’t quit smoking, so she’d at least have had something to do while she waited. She looked up when she saw Henry, fighting a grimace when she saw his mother trailing closely behind. Henry was scowling hard enough for the two of them, and Regina did not look pleased. Emma had successfully avoided the woman ever since their interaction almost three weeks ago (not a difficult feat given that Regina hid in her classroom all day, every day). She was definitely not looking forward to this confrontation though. Regina looked _pissed_.

“Miss Swan.”

“Regina.”

The irate brunette tossed her jacket at Emma, glaring.

“My name is Miss Mills, and you would do well to remember that. Now, what is this about you wanting to bring Henry for a hot chocolate? And what in God’s name are you doing forcing him to wear your clothing? He has his own jacket, a much more suitable choice than this God awful monstrosity-”

“ _Mom-_ ” Henry interrupted, anger filling his voice. “Stop!”

“Hush, Henry. You will most certainly not be taking him out,” Regina continued, glaring at the blonde before her. “Have you any idea how inappropriate that would be? Or what kind of message it sends that you are inviting little boys out with the promise of a sugary drink? Did you even pass the record check you were required to obtain in order to get this job?” Not waiting for an answer, Regina continued, voice as cool as ice. “You will not invite Henry anywhere, ever again. It is inappropriate and downright creepy. I warned you to stay away from me, Miss Swan. That warning extends to my son. You will stay away from him.”

Emma looked at Regina, deciding then and there that she didn’t care anymore. She was done. She was done obeying the woman’s ridiculous orders. Regina wasn’t her boss, and frankly, Emma was sick of ducking around the school and avoiding the lunch room (and thus the friends she had made in other teachers), just to avoid one person. Regina wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth this stress, and if she wanted to be a bitch to Emma even after Emma had tried to give her an undeserved apology then so be it. There was nothing Emma could do to change that, and she would accept that Regina was just a bitch and that she had made an enemy out of her. Emma hated conflict, but she hated living with this stress even more. It wasn’t worth living in this constant state of anxiety, of apprehension.

Emma had a choice. She could either continue to live with the knot in her stomach, be on edge every time she stepped in the school, or she could finally decide she didn’t fucking care.

Emma decided not to care.

“Kinda hard to do that since I’m his teacher,” Emma responded, speaking in a casual tone.

“Excuse me?”

Emma shrugged.

“I’m his teacher. It’ll be hard for me to stay away from him considering.”

Regina saw red.

“I’m not sure who the hell you think you are, Miss Swan, but I take the protection of my son _very_ seriously. Stay the hell out of my business. Stay away from my son.”

“You don’t scare me, Regina.” And Emma decided that she didn’t. Emma had faced worse, scarier, and she refused to be intimidated any longer. “And as long as your kid is my student, he _is_ my business.” Emma then looked down at the quiet boy, smiling softly at him. “I’ll get you another time for that hot chocolate, kid. See you in class on Monday.”

Emma left, her calm disposition quickly turning into anger and irritation as she began replaying the conversation in her head. God, that woman was such a _bitch_. Why the hell did she care so much that Emma wanted to bring Henry out for a drink? It’s not like Regina had been with him anyway. And it irked the hell out of Emma that Regina insinuated that her invitation was inappropriate or that Emma was some kind of predator. But Emma had refused to show that Regina got to her while they were talking. She had internalised that irritation until she was alone, and now that she was on her own with her thoughts, Emma was fuming.

Emma stalked off to her car, refusing to look back. She slammed the car door shut and drove home angrily (she probably should have calmed down before taking the wheel), parking the car and yanking out her box of books from the back seat before heading into the house. Emma shoved the box onto the counter, grabbing a beer from the fridge before dropping down heavily onto the couch. She cracked the can open, chugging half of it and burping loudly into the empty room. She sighed, dropping her head onto the back of the couch as she rubbed her eyes.

Jesus, she had never imagined she’d make an enemy out of her colleague in her first months of teaching. Usually, Emma was a chameleon, able to adapt to her surroundings, make friends with even the most prickly of people. But never in her life had she met someone who was just such a flat out bitch.

Emma sighed. No wonder Henry was so withdrawn and somber. How could he not be, living with that? Suddenly feeling guilty for abandoning Henry with the irate woman, Emma vowed to make things right next week, Regina’s threat be damned. Henry so desperately needed someone to talk to, and Emma had actually made a break through with him today, she was sure of it. She would talk to him, see if Regina was as horrible to him as she seemed to be everyone else, and then she’d go from there. Regina didn’t seem to be a terrible mother, but looks could be deceiving. Emma knew that first hand.  

Emma sat quietly on the couch, flipping through sports channels as she sipped the rest of her beer. She didn’t want to get drunk, didn’t even want to get a buzz. She had just wanted to calm down from her confrontation with Regina. She was significantly calmer by the time the can was empty, plopping it onto the coffee table and settling back into the couch. The door opened about an hour later, one very frazzled Mary Margaret stumbling inside.

“Hey M&M. What’s up?”

“Care to tell me why I just spent the last hour on the phone with Miss Mills, who insisted that her son needed to be changed out of _that infernally vile woman’s class immediately._ ”

Emma snorted, her earlier anger having completely dissipated and replaced with indifference. Regina’s issues were not her problem. She had wasted enough energy on the brunette. She was done.

“She’s such a bitch,” she said casually.

“Yes, well, we had finally established a professional working relationship and it looks like that’s been shot to- to-”

“Hell. It’s been shot to hell. You can say it.”

“I don’t like to swear.”

Emma chuckled.

“I’ll rub off on you yet.”

“What happened, Emma?”

The blonde sighed.

“Had a confrontation with her in the school yard. She’s insane.”

“She’s protective. And guarded.”

“Yeah, well. She’s nuts. You gonna change Henry classes? And adopt him so that he doesn’t have to live with her?”

“Regina is a good mother,” Mary Margaret defended, though not with much conviction. “And no, I’m not going to change him classes. I probably just destroyed the tentative truce between us with that decision, but I had no choice. The other classes are full and I can’t just arbitrarily start changing students classes because a parent doesn’t like her child’s teacher. If I started doing that, I’d have to do that for a dozen other students and I’m not going to start that. So no, I’m going to deal with her temper as best as I can and hope that she calms down after the winter break.”

Emma winced.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck things up between you guys.”

“It’s fine.”

“What happened anyway? Ruby said there’s like bad blood between you guys from forever ago.”

Mary Margaret shook her head.

“We’re not going to get into that. All you need to know is it was my fault, and the reason there’s animosity between us is because of me.”

“You? You’re like the nicest person ever. Regina’s the one with the stick up her ass. She’s an antisocial bitch.”

“You don’t know her, Emma,” Mary Margaret said gently. “You don’t know what she’s been through. I caused her a lot of problems when we were younger, and they’re still affecting her today. I still feel guilty about it.”

Emma looked at her sympathetically. She could feel the guilt radiating off of Mary Margaret.

“Well, whatever happened, it still doesn’t give her a free pass to be an asshole to everyone around her.”

“Maybe not, but she has her reasons. Now, what are we ordering for supper?” Mary Margaret asked, changing the subject. “I am so not in the mood to cook tonight.”


	3. Chapter 3

Regina was still seething by Wednesday of the following week. The only time she wasn’t consumed by rage was when she was with her kids, their tiny little faces making it impossible for her to do anything but smile. Regina threw herself into her work, just as she always did when she was upset, creating extravagant and artistic activities with the kids, which required hours of cutting, gluing, and pasting together prior to handing them out to the children to finish.

She hung their Thanksgiving creations along the corridor leading up to her classroom, getting ready for the parent/teacher night which was two nights away. When she wasn’t at school, she was home preparing progress reports and collecting pictures and paintings, putting them into portfolios, each carefully labelled with each child’s name. Regina tried engaging her son, but even after four months since the discovery of his adoption, he was still angry with her. He refused to say more than two words to her, always turned down her offer for a bedtime story or a goodnight kiss. It ate at Regina, made her ache, and the only distraction she found that helped was to concentrate on work. So she worked long after she was tired, getting up far earlier than she needed to, and kept herself going on coffee and the occasional power bar. She couldn’t keep this up forever, Regina knew that, but right now, it was just about surviving.

Parent teacher night came much too soon for an absolutely drained Regina, so she forced down a fourth coffee and threw on a bright smile as she greeted each and every parent. She really was happy talking about ‘her’ kids, the energy and pride as she spoke of each child’s progress absolutely genuine. The parents beamed, and Regina was happy to converse with them about their children. But after three hours of meeting with parents, Regina was beyond exhausted. She felt like death on her feet, her body protesting the long hours and lack of sleep, lack of nutrition. Truthfully, Regina hadn’t eaten properly in… she couldn’t remember how long. Weeks, months maybe. She made supper for Henry every night, good, healthy meals, but she couldn’t bring herself to swallow down more than a few bites off her own plate. Her appetite escaped her completely, sitting next to the surly child who used to be her bubbly and energetic little boy. She could barely choke down the food knowing her son _hated_ her so much, _feeling_ it radiate off of him any time she got too close. How could she eat knowing the person she loved more than anything in the world couldn’t stand her?

Regina had been dragging the boy to therapy since he’d first discovered the adoption papers, which is where the little notebook he kept tucked under his arm at all times had originated, but it didn’t seem to be helping. At least he was offering her more than the grunts he had been before therapy, but giving her a “no” or a “whatever” or a “go away” wasn’t much more than the grunts of the past. And now, as she attempted to bring him to his classes so she could speak to _his_ teachers, she was about ready to give up on everything. He was refusing, as always, to do as she asked, and Regina was just so _tired_. She was trying hard to keep her patience, but all she wanted to do was scream at him. Or cry. Or both. And the migraine that was beginning to beat at the back of her skull was doing nothing to help her patience.

“Henry. I need to meet with your teachers. Come on.”

“So go.”

“You cannot stay here alone, Henry. Let’s go,” she said, mustering as much strength into her voice as she could.

“No.”

“Henry, for once will you please just do as I ask,” Regina growled. Before she could say anything else, Regina heard that familiar, irritating, aggravating voice coming from behind her.

“Something wrong?”

“No, there is nothing wrong, Miss Swan. Please leave.”

“Uh, you’re standing right outside my door, so… no.” When Emma’s eyes finally looked away from Henry and landed on Regina, she was shocked to see the state in which the normally pristine woman was. “Jesus, Regina. You look like shit.”

Regina closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose.

“Thank you, for that that incredibly insightful observation. Anything else you’d like to add? Perhaps you’d like to help Henry break free of the Evil Queen’s cruel clutches? He clearly wants to be anywhere but here. And you’re in luck. The Queen is feeling worse than she looks. Now would be the prime time to take advantage.”

Emma frowned. Going up against Regina when she was at full force, in a fair fight (verbal, never physical) was one thing. But to attack her now, when she looked seconds away from collapsing, was another. Emma might hate Regina, but she wasn’t one to kick a man while he was down.

“Leave Henry here with me. Go talk to his teachers. You have to come back here anyway to talk with me about his school progress.”

Her gentle tone immediately set Regina on edge.

“So that you can further poison my son against me? No, thank you.”

Regina was definitely not going to leave her son with the woman she despised so.

“Regina,” Emma said calmly, “you look like hell. Go to the bathroom, fix your make up, talk to his teachers, and come back here when you’re done. I promise you the kid’ll be poison free by the time you get back.”

“You’re in no way in charge of my actions.”

“No, but I’m betting my suggestion sounds pretty good right now, doesn’t it? Got an alternative that doesn’t involve binding and gagging your kid? Cause I’m thinking that’s the only way you’ll get him to go with you. I bet that’ll look real good to social services.”

Regina glowered. She didn’t have any other ideas, and she was loathe to admit that the woman was probably right. Henry was still glaring at her, and that migraine was slowly creeping deeper into her skull, which meant what little energy she had left would quickly be wiped out with another of her son’s fits. She had an hour, two tops, before she would be bedridden for the next twelve or so hours, so any hope she had to speak to his teachers was slowly dwindling. She had time though; she could still speak to his teachers if she left him with the irritating blonde before her.

Decision made, Regina sighed heavily. Fine. She'd have to call David when she returned to retrieve Henry. Whenever her migraines hit, David made sure to take the boy out of the house, lest he worry about his mother curled up in the fetal position, crying out if even the slightest bit of light or noise entered her bedroom. Regina wondered if at this point it was even necessary because she doubted Henry would even care.

“Fine,” Regina growled out, agreeing. She hated that she had no other choice.

“We’ll see you in a bit.”

Emma watched the woman leave, turning to her surly looking son once she was out of view.

“So, what’s got you all pissy?”

“I am not _pissy_.”

“Uh, yeah you are. And what’s with all this Evil Queen business? You call her that or something?” Emma asked casually, leading the way into her classroom. It was a fitting title, but it gnawed at her that the boy might call his mother that. She had seen Regina, however briefly, with Henry. She was… well, she was different. And she had seen the woman with the other children as well, she was an entirely different person that the cruel bitch persona she adopted around Emma. Seeing her tonight, just now, it almost reminded Emma that Regina was human.

Almost.

Henry’s shrug caused Emma to frown. She didn’t like the sounds of that response.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Cause she is.”

“Why is she the Evil Queen?”

“Cause she does evil stuff. And she’s mean.”

“She’s not mean to you.”

“Sometimes she is.”

That set off Emma’s internal alarms. Calming her adrenaline, she looked at him carefully.

“How?”

He shrugged again.

“Henry, I’m not going to ask you again,” Emma said, employing her rarely used no-nonsense voice. “How is she mean to you?”

“She lies to me.”

“What has she lied to you about?”

Henry looked at her. Then looked at the open door, hesitating. Emma understood. She got up and closed it, assuring him that no one would hear. Still, she could tell he was debating, and Emma waited patiently. She waited, and waited, watching Henry, willing him to speak. He licked his lips, glancing up at her every so often, as though weighing whether or not he could tell her. Emma sat, unmoving, not saying a word.  Before he could speak, she heard a knock on her door. Emma cursed loudly in her head, screaming internally at whoever it was that was interrupting such an important moment.

“Oh. Hey, Joe.” Pizza guy. Emma’s anger deflated. She was starving, and as much as she hated that he chose _this_ moment to interrupt… well, pizza.

“Hey, Em. Can’t stay and talk, busy night. It’s 9.56 for this one.”

Emma dug into her pocket, pulling out some bills and handing them over.

“No problem. Here. Thanks.”

“Thanks, Em. Enjoy. Have a good night.”

Emma closed the door, chuckling at Henry’s wide eyes.

“You get _pizza_ delivered here?!”

“Yep.”

“And he knows your name?”

“Well, Storybrooke is pretty small. There’s only like two pizza guys, and for the amount of pizza I order, well… yeah. They learnt my name pretty quick.”

“It must be awesome to be an adult. You can order pizza any time you want.”

Emma chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s alright. You hungry?”

Henry nodded eagerly, eyeing the loaded pizza before him. He loved pizza, and he so very rarely got it with his mom.

“You got any allergies?”

“Only to arugula.”

“Aruga- what? Jesus, kid. Whatever. Go ahead then, dig in.”

“You sure?” Henry hesitated, but he very clearly wanted some.

Emma shook her head, amused.

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll take the heat if your mom gets mad.”

“Okay.”

Henry quickly tore into the pizza, grabbing a large slice and bringing it to his mouth. He groaned happily, chewing quickly and immediately taking another bite.

“Hey, slow down, kid. Old people aren’t lying when they say if you eat too fast your stomach’ll hurt. Trust me. I learnt the hard way.”

Henry nodded, slowing his chewing and then swallowing.

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve had pizza.”

“Your mom doesn’t feed you or what?”

“Yeah. But she never gets take out. She only ever makes me stuff at home.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, kid.”

“I like eating out.”

“It’s nice once in a while. But trust me when I tell you that having home cooked meals is way better. Especially when your mom makes ‘em just for you.”

Henry sat quietly after the comment, looking at her desk as he ate his pizza at a much, much slower pace. Emma could tell he was thinking, so she slowed her eating as well, not wanting to startle him out of his thoughts by leaning forward and grabbing another piece when she finished the one in her hand. She waited, feeling instinctively that he was going to talk. And Emma was right, the boy finally confessing what he was debating telling her earlier.

“I’m adopted.”

Emma knew this was obviously a big deal to him, so she waited for him to continue.

“I’m adopted and she never told me. She made me think I was hers, forever. For my whole life. She lied to me. And she wasn’t gonna tell me either. I found out because I was looking through her things.”

He was so angry he was shaking, and the slice of pizza in his hands quickly came to rest on his lap.

“That sounds like a pretty shitty thing to find out on your own. Did you talk to her about how angry it made you?”

“Of course I did! But it doesn’t make it better. She still lied to me. My life sucks with her!”

“You wanna know what sucks kid? Feeling like nobody likes you, or wants you, or loves you. Does your mom make you feel like that?”

When Henry stayed quiet, Emma continued.

“I didn’t think so. Yeah, it was a shitty thing to do to keep your adoption from you. She should have told you, but I’m gonna go ahead and bet that she wasn’t keeping it from you to hurt you. I’m gonna guess she was waiting ‘til it was a good time to tell you, right?”

Henry looked down, picking at his pizza.

“She said she wanted to wait ‘til I would understand,” he mumbled, then suddenly got angry again. “I would have understood right away! She should have told me.”

“Like you’re understanding right now, kid? Maybe she was afraid you’d get mad at her or push her away like you’re doing right now. Or worse, she was afraid of you telling her she wasn't your real mom.”

When Henry looked away guiltily, Emma knew she had hit a sore spot.

“You’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

Henry nodded. He was angry with his mom. He hated what she did, but he… he also didn’t like hurting her, not always. Sometimes he was happy to hurt her like she had hurt him. But after he’d said that, that she wasn’t his real mom, that he hated her, and seeing the way she recoiled like he’s slapped her, watching the tears fill her eyes and her voice crack as she told him she needed to check on dinner, seeing the redness in her eyes as she joined him at the table after it was ready… that hadn’t felt good. That hadn’t felt good at all. It still made his belly curl up in regret in fact.

Henry dropped the pizza on the desk, tears welling in his eyes as he thought about that day. He tried not to, because it made him feel so bad.

As soon as she saw his reaction, Emma immediately put her dinner down and got up, wiping her hands on her jeans before dropping on the floor beside the boy. She pulled him into her arms, shushing him softly as he cried.

“It’s okay, Henry.”

She rocked him as he wept, whispering soothing words as he clung to her. He trembled and clutched her close, holding tight as he cried. Emma held him until the tears finally stopped, shushing him softly as she waited for him to calm down.

When he finally quieted, Emma reached up for the napkins, handing them to the boy still seated in her lap. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose, tossing the used tissues into the garbage. Emma rubbed his back gently, leaning back against the desk as she pulled him close. She wasn't great at this whole talk and comforting thing, but she needed to do _something_.

“She called herself the Evil Queen because it’s what I call her. In my stories.”

“What?” Emma asked gently, trying to keep her tone neutral so as not to discourage him from explaining.

Henry buried his face in her collarbone, squeezing his eyes shut against his confession.

“My mom. Regina. After I found out about… after I found my adoption papers, my mom made me go to see Archie, a doctor. Psychologist. He told me I should write what I was feeling because I was really angry. So I did. At first I just wrote how much I hated her. And then I said that she was evil. And so I… I made a story. She was the Evil Queen and she stole me from my real mom. And she brought me to Storybrooke and made all the people here unhappy. Cause she was evil. Lots of people here don’t like my mom, so… it worked.”

“And your mom knows?”

“Yeah. I left my notebook out once, on purpose. I wanted her to…” Henry squeezed his eyes shut tighter, his voice muffled by Emma’s shirt as he spoke. “I wanted to hurt her. So I left it out so she’d see it.”

He began crying again, so Emma held him tight.

“It’s okay, kid. I know it’s upsetting, but she’s your mom, bud. She’s gonna forgive you. She loves you. A lot.”

“She doesn’t,” he sniffled, “not anymore. Besides, she lied to me. I can’t trust her.”

Emma rubbed his back soothingly, waiting until he’d calmed before she spoke up.

“I was given up when I was a kid. A baby.”

“You were?”

Emma nodded, tucking his head under her chin.

“Well, abandoned actually. I was found on a road in the middle of the night. My mom- the woman who gave birth to me,” Emma corrected herself, “tossed me out like yesterday’s newspaper and never looked back. I was adopted when I was a few months old, but then the couple changed their mind and they gave me back when I was three. I grew up a foster kid, bouncing from home to home, school to school, family to family. I was a little like a ping pong ball. Nobody really wanted me. Certainly nobody loved me when I was a kid. Definitely nobody made me homemade meals every night, or bought me nice clothes, or read me stories at night. Nobody put me in therapy even though I really should have been (that had come later, when Emma was an adult, and had accepted that she needed help), or put band-aids on my cuts, or held me when I cried. Everybody was more than happy to tell me I wasn’t theirs, that no one would ever adopt me, and that they hated me. I would have killed to have a mom who loved me, kid. Even if she made a mistake and didn’t tell me right away that I was adopted.

“I’m not saying your mom was right to lie to you. But I think she did what she thought was best for you. I don’t think she did it to be cruel, did she? To hurt you?”

Henry stayed quiet, still, before finally shaking his head.

“I didn’t think so. I think you need to tell her that she hurt you, that you don’t trust her now, that you’re gonna have to work on trusting her, and that you wish she’d have told you the truth. But I think you also owe her a pretty huge apology, and you need to tell her as soon as she gets back here that you love her. Because she loves you lots kid, and she’s hurting too. And she probably is regretting not telling you the truth.

“There’s no guides out there telling you the right thing to do in life; you’re gonna figure that out pretty quick. We all just kinda just wing it. Sure, you learn as you get older, and sometimes you know the right decision to make when you’re in a tough spot because you’ve been in a similar situation in the past. But mostly, you’re trying to figure things out day by day and the best you can do is make the choice you think is the right one, doing the best you can for yourself and the people you love. And I think your mom made a decision, thinking it was the right one for you. She wanted to love you, didn’t want you to feel different or abandoned or even a little bit unwanted, which maybe you would have felt if you found out you’d been put up for adoption. So she chose not to tell you. But the thing is, having an adoptive mother is even better than having a birth mom. Know why?”

Henry shook his head, wrapping his arms around her back as he listened to her speak.

“Because, like your mom with you, an adoptive mom _chooses_ to love you. She chooses you, Hen. Your mom picked you, out of all the kids in the whole world waiting to be loved, waiting for a family.  You were waiting for a mom, and she picked you, kid. She chose you to adopt out of all the kids in the world, and that’s because she knew you were special. And being picked, man, that’s a great feeling. She picked you and brought you home and loved you and nurtured you. And she’s gonna love you forever and ever, cause she’s your mom. A mom isn’t the person who gives birth to you. A mom is the person who holds you, and kisses you, and cares for you, and makes you feel better, and protects you, and teaches you, and punishes you when you need it, and loves you unconditionally. And when you find someone who loves you like that, you gotta hold onto it as hard as you can, okay? Cause that’s the best feeling in the world. I know I would have.”

Henry breathed in a deep breath, clutching at the back of Emma’s shirt.

“You think she still loves me?”

“Jesus, Hen,” Emma bit back a watery laugh, “course she does. Do you see how she protects you? She loves you so much, she lashes out at anyone she thinks is gonna hurt you.”

Henry let out a small laugh.

“She can be scary sometimes.”

Emma laughed along with him, wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

“Yeah, but that’s good. Means she loves you. And she’ll keep you safe. The best moms always do.” Emma, she had met a few… a few good moms. Some had been good. “They’re the ones you wanna have. You’re allowed to be upset and be angry, Henry, but you’re not allowed to be cruel like you have been to your mom. Part of growing up is learning to communicate. And instead of talking to her like you should have been, you’ve been really angry and mean. That changes today, okay? If you need helping talking to her, I’ll help you. But you guys need to talk. Alright?”

Henry nodded against her, enjoying the comfort of her embrace until his stomach started rumbling.

“Hungry, huh?”

“Yeah. Guess that talk made me hungry.”

“You did do a lot of confessing. You were pretty brave, telling me what you did. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. But, don’t say anything okay? To the other kids or like… to anyone.”

“Henry,” Emma said, looking at him seriously. “Unless your secrets are dangerous or- or if it’s a bad secret, like someone doing something to you that they shouldn’t, I’m never gonna say anything, okay? You can tell me anything and I won’t repeat it unless your safety or the safety of someone else is in jeopardy.”

Henry nodded gratefully, getting up when Miss Swan started to stand.

“Thanks.”

“Now eat your pizza before it gets cold, mister.”

Henry giggled, looking so much like the ten year old little boy that he was. It made Emma happy that his mood had been lifted, the boy holding up his pizza and bringing it to his mouth.

“It’s already cold.”

* * *

Leaving Henry's math teacher's class, Regina stopped in her tracks. She could feel the black spots forming before her eyes, the dull thud of pain reverberating in her skull.

_No, no._

It was too soon. It had only been forty minutes. She should still have a little more time, at least enough to get home. But as she slowly made her way down the hall, she realised that the time she had allotted herself before the migraine truly began to take over had been grossly misjudged, and now she was struggling to get herself back to Emma's classroom. She wasn't going to make it, she already knew, so Regina stumbled into one of the faculty washrooms, immediately turning off the lights and struggling to the floor.

Regina curled into a ball, pressing her forehead to the cool tile and breathing deeply. She needed to get ahold of David. Mustering what little energy she had, Regina reached for her phone. She winced as the movement of her hand against the fabric of her pants echoed in her head like nails against a chalkboard. She bit hard on her lower lip as she dialled David's number, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. When she got his voicemail, she sobbed, dropping the phone onto the floor and giving up. She couldn't move, could barely breathe, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to calm the panic that threatened to consume her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the delay on this one. I'm in the process of buying my very own house (!!) and it is taking up all of my spare time. I'll be moved in by the end of the month, so bear with me for the next three weeks? :)

_Where the hell are you?_

Emma glanced at the clock, feeling a little annoyed. It had been over an hour that Regina had been gone, and the meetings with Henry’s teachers should not have taken this long. Emma didn’t mind spending time with Henry, she liked the kid, but she wasn’t planning on staying here all night.

“Hey, kid. Guard the pizza, will ya? I’m gonna go hunt down some pop.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sit tight. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Okay!”

Emma left the room, glancing around the empty hallway. A feeling of unease settled in her stomach. It was too quiet. Where was everyone? She glanced around quickly, hoping to see someone, but she was the only soul in sight.

Emma headed down the hall to the faculty lounge, where she knew she’d find the pop she had promised Henry. Maybe Regina would be in there too and Emma could harass her for why the hell she was taking so long to come back. She ducked into the room, looking around and finding it empty. Unsurprising, given how quiet the hallway was, but it was still disappointing. Emma grabbed a couple of drinks, swinging by the gym on her way back to her classroom. She peeked her head in, calling to Mary Margaret, who was helping to take down tables now that the parents had all left.

“Hey, you seen Regina?”

“No. She left a little while ago. Do you want me to come and help you find her?”

“No, that’s fine. I probably just missed her. I headed out to grab some pop,” Emma said, holding up the cans. “Thanks!”

Mary Margaret smiled at her, telling her _no problem_. Emma left the gym, worried. She jogged to Regina’s class, calling for her, but received no response. She checked a few random other classrooms in the Spanish Immersion wing, and with each additional empty room, Emma’s stomach knotted further. She quickly made her way back to her own classroom, taking a second to school her features before stepping inside.

“Hey, sorry about the wait. Had to fend off a bunch of people to get the goods. You mind hanging out for a second? I just have to do something. I’ll be right back.”

Henry, who had been watching YouTube videos on the phone she had left him (and eating more pizza), simply nodded. He never got to watch mindless videos and eat junk. He wasn’t about to ask any questions.

“Great, thanks.”

Emma closed the door to her classroom, running back to the Spanish Immersion wing and working her way systematically down the hall. She opened each door, saying Regina’s name, stomach bubbling with apprehension after each unmet call. When she pushed open the women’s faculty bathroom at the end of the SI wing, her heart jumped in her throat at the crumpled form on the floor. She'd recognise it anywhere; after all, she had spent enough time ogling it when she’d first arrived at the primary school.

“Regina!”

Emma flipped on the light, only to be met with a shriek of what could only be dire pain, Regina recoiling like she’d been burned. Emma instantly flicked the light back off, overcome with concern.

“Regina, are you okay?”

Regina cried softly, clutching her head as she curled even tighter in the fetal position.

“S-stop talking.”

Emma halted, the whispered words carrying so little strength and so much pain that they stopped her in her tracks.

“Migraine,” Regina whimpered, body shaking as she tried desperately not to cry. It felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer to her skull, and the crying only made it worse.

Emma slowed her breathing, her galloping heart finally slowing down. Migraine. Regina was having a migraine. Oh, Jesus, what a relief. The woman looked like she had been attacked, badly wounded, the way she was curled in on herself.

Emma, as slowly and as quietly as she could, slipped off her shoes, wincing in apology as Regina whimpered when she accidentally squeaked the rubber sole against the floor. She then padded over to where Regina was laying, careful not to touch her as she gently knelt down.

“Henry?”

“Safe. Do you have pain medication?” Emma asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Purse. Imitrex.”

Emma turned to the discarded purse lying on its side under one of the stalls. She crawled over, carefully grazing her fingers over the items inside until she felt a round cap with the telltale ridges along its sides. She pulled the bottle out, careful not to rattle the pills inside, and checked the label. _Imitrex_. _Take 1-2 pills as needed_. It was definitely going to be a 2 pill moment. She slowly backed out from under the stall in order to sit back up.

Holding her breath as she worked the childproof lid, Emma grimaced in apology (even though Regina couldn’t see her) when the woman jerked in pain at the sound of the plastic lid grinding against the bottle. Emma carefully fished out two of the pills, looking around for something to use as a cup. There was nothing, so Emma crawled back to Regina’s purse and felt around. There was a small container, which Emma pulled out and inspected. It looked clean enough (it held crackers, which looked untouched), so Emma popped open the lid and discarded the crackers into the toilet as quietly as possible before getting up and filling the empty container with water. She then tip-toed back to Regina, once again kneeling next to her and bringing the pills to her lips. Regina instantly opened her mouth, and Emma carefully supported her head as she popped in the pills and brought the container of water to her lips. Regina drank greedily, squeezing her eyes shut and whimpering pitifully when she finally pulled away. Emma set the container down, wishing desperately she could wait this out with Regina, but knowing her presence was probably making the migraine worse. Plus, she really needed to check on Henry.

“I’ll be back,” Emma breathed, getting up and moving as slowly and as carefully as she could. She gently pried open the door, squeezing through the narrow crack she had created and let her hand guide it closed.

Emma immediately jogged back to her classroom, Henry looking up with concern when he saw her expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your mom’s got a migraine.”

Henry nodded, a little worried.

“She gets them sometimes. She makes me go out with Mister Noland when they happen. I don’t mind though. I get to call him David and he brings me rock climbing.”

“Have you ever seen her have a migraine before?”

“Not really. I just know she sleeps a lot usually. And I know they hurt her head. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s just in pain. We need to take her home. Where do you guys live?”

“Mifflin street. Number 108. It’s a big white house.”

Emma nodded.

“Alright. Get your stuff together. We’re gonna take your mom home.”

“Okay. What happened to your shoes?”

Emma looked down, shrugging.

“They were hurting your mom’s head, so I got rid of them. She’s gonna need a few minutes before the medication kicks in, so let’s go get the car ready now.”

Henry agreed, worrying his lower lip as he followed Emma outside.

“You’re sure she’s okay?” Emma looked really worried, and that concerned Henry.

“She’s good, kid. I promise. But you need to be really quiet when she gets in the car, okay? Don’t talk until you need to, to show me your house, alright?”

Henry nodded.

“Migraines aren’t deathly,” Emma soothed, when she saw that he was still worried. “They’re just really painful. I had a foster sister who used to get them, and she said it was like someone was slamming a cement block against your skull. From the inside. So it hurts a lot, but her medication is going to help with that. We’ll get her home and in bed, and she’ll be fine.”

Henry slid into the backseat, sitting quietly as he’d been asked. He placed the pizza box and Emma’s things on the empty seat next to him, waiting as Emma brought the car to the back exit.

“She’s not far from here. I’m gonna see if she can walk. If not, you might see me carrying her. But don’t freak out. She’s fine, just weak. Open the door for me though, yeah?”

Henry nodded.

“Okay. Be right back.”

Emma jogged into the school, heading back to the washroom where Regina was. She was relieved to note that the woman didn’t flinch upon her return, and it looked like her breathing had returned to normal, no longer the shallow, silent panting from earlier.

“Regina? I’m gonna take you home now,” Emma explained softly, before glancing up around the room. She reached for the woman’s discarded phone and purse, pocketing the cell and throwing the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Do you think you can walk?”

Regina nodded, arms trembling as she attempted to push herself up. Emma immediately intervened, strong hands grabbing onto her biceps as she gently pulled the woman up. She threw Regina’s arm around her shoulder, Emma’s coming around her middle to help hold her steady. Holding her close like this, Emma realised just how _tiny_ Regina was. She could feel her ribs through her silk shirt, and she barely weighed a thing as Emma manoeuvered her out of the bathroom. How did someone so small manage to be so damn imposing? Emma didn’t have time to contemplate the question because the second they stepped out of the bathroom, Regina twisted violently in her arms.

Regina winced and moaned in pain as the light from the hallway hit her eyes, jerking her head away and burying it in Emma’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Emma whispered, holding the back of her head as she gave her a second to recover.

Regina trembled as she tried desperately to fight the tears, but she had _just_ started feeling better when she’d been brought out of the bathroom, the glaring light of the hallway slicing into her eyes, into her skull, like a blade. The pain returned and Regina was helpless to fight the fat tears that spilled over her cheeks, nor could she halt the cry of agony that tumbled from her lips.

“Okay,” Emma soothed, “I know.”

Regina squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to move, but she couldn’t. She was in too much pain to remember to be strong, to keep up her front, to not be weak. And the woman helping her… she was soothing. Her voice, her touch were comforting. And Regina was powerless to resist her help. She couldn’t even if she had wanted to (and right now, she really didn’t want to resist), and so she leaned into Emma, into her comforting presence, and she let herself be vulnerable.

“I can’t,” Regina whimpered. “Hurts.”

“Okay.”

Emma bent down, taking care not to jostle Regina’s head as she scooped one arm under her knees, the other holding her head close to her chest. Regina buried her face in her shirt, no doubt squeezing her eyes shut as Emma quickly exited the over lit building. The second they were outside, Emma breathed a sigh of relief, incredibly grateful that the sun had gone down and the stars were now out. True to his word, Henry pushed open the car door when they approached, looking at his mom with big, worried eyes as Emma deposited her on the front seat. Emma held her finger to her lips, and Henry nodded. She grabbed the seatbelt, yanking it down and wrapping it around an incredibly groggy Regina, who kept trying to bury her face in her shoulder.

Emma pointed with her finger for Henry to sit down, the boy immediately obeying. She then quickly closed the passenger door as quietly as possible before sliding into the driver’s seat and turning on the ignition. Regina shifted in her seat, curling up as best she could as Emma raced to Mifflin street. She scanned the houses as soon as she turned onto their street, spotting it even before Henry’s frantic jabbing and pointing. She nodded that she understood, jerking her head in the direction of the door when they finally parked. Henry got the message, following her out of the car.

“Listen, I can see some of the lights are still on inside. I want you to take your mom’s purse and go inside, and turn them all off.”

“How will you find her room?”

“You whisper the directions to me. Your mom can handle a few whispered words.”

“Okay.”

Emma made her way over to the passenger side, hoisting Regina out as Henry raced around the house, turning off all the lights. Normally, his mother didn’t like coming back to a dark house. This time though, he knew she’d appreciate it.

Emma made her way up the steps of their mansion (there was no way this was actually considered a house. It was way too big), sneaking around the open door. Her eyes flew up her forehead as she took in the grandiose staircase, lit up by the moonlight peaking in from the windows, knowing instinctively that the bedrooms would be upstairs. Emma stepped on her sock with one foot and yanked it off before doing the same with the other, not wanting to risk death if she dirtied Regina’s floors (the woman would recover soon after all, once she’d had a bit of rest).

Emma heard Henry coming up behind her, and the boy led her to the correct room, pushing the door open and directing her inside. The moon was high in the sky by this point, and Emma used the little light it cast into the room to find the bed. She gently deposited Regina onto it, pulling off the woman’s socks and gently tugging on the blankets beneath her body. Regina curled up immediately, face burying deeply into the pillows. Emma reached behind Regina and unsnapped her bra with her right hand. She wasn’t going to undress her, no way, but she knew how good it felt to at least be freed from the confines of a tight bra. Regina would be grateful in the morning (she hoped).

Emma tucked the covers around Regina’s balled up body, as Henry looked on worriedly. Emma guided the boy out of the room, gently closing the door behind them. She'd bring Regina a water bottle later, once she’d found where they were kept.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna be fine, kid,” Emma answered, turning on the hallway light to see him better. “This isn’t the first one she’s gotten, remember? And she’s been fine after each one. She just needs a good night’s rest in her own bed. Now come on, it’s getting late. You need to get to bed too.”

“I can’t sleep yet, Emma. Please. Can we just… watch a movie or something?”

“You need to be distracted?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, kid. Go get into your PJs and you can show me your theatre room.”

“How do you know we have one of those?”

“I didn’t, but this place is a mansion, and _of course_ you’d have one,” Emma responded, exaggerating her tone. 

Henry laughed, jogging to his bedroom and changing. While he did, Emma made her way downstairs, flicking on the first set of lights she saw and took in the extravagant entrance. If this is what the entrance looked like, how did the rest of the house compare?

She wandered around the main floor until she found the massive kitchen, heading over to the fridge and pulling the door open. She spotted a water bottle tucked into the back, reaching out and grabbing it. She closed the door just as Henry came racing into the kitchen, smiling.

“We forgot the pizza in the car!”

Emma grinned at him, fishing her keys out of her pocket and tossing them at him.

“You empty my car and I’ll go bring this to your mom. Then meet me at the bottom of the stairs and you can show me where this movie theatre is.”

Henry nodded, quickly making his way outside while Emma walked back up the stairs. She turned off the hallway light, carefully opening Regina’s bedroom door and slipping inside. She padded over quietly to the bed, leaning over the slumbering form and observing her for a minute. There was no more frown marring her forehead, her breathing was deep (normal, for someone asleep), and she looked peaceful. _Finally_. She might be a bitch, but Emma was sympathetic to the pain of migraines. She had seen Holly crippled by the ones she’d get, shutting herself in her bedroom and crying out if anyone made noise. Luckily, they’d been in one of the good foster homes, so her foster sister had been well taken care of by their foster mom.

Emma placed the water bottle on Regina’s nightstand, ducking out of the bedroom as quietly as she’d entered it. The woman would probably be out for the next ten or twelve hours, maybe longer, if she were anything like Holly.

“Is she okay?”

Emma nodded as she made her way down the steps, grabbing the pizza box from Henry.

“Yeah, she’s good. Sleeping.”

“Good. Wanna go watch a movie now?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?” Emma asked, following him into the theatre room. Her jaw dropped when she walked inside, shaking her head as she took in the sight of the huge room. “You realise you’re like the most spoiled kid in Storybrooke, right? Or maybe all of America? Like, you get that it’s not normal for someone to have a freaking projector and La-Z-Boys and a popcorn machine and all this crazy stuff as just… a room in their house?”

Henry smiled sheepishly.

“I asked for a movie room when I was a kid.”

“Spoiled,” Emma teased.

“I know. She loves me a lot.”

Emma chuckled.

“That she does, kid.”

“I’d love her even if she didn’t give me a theatre room,” Henry said thoughtfully. “I always liked best when she’d bring me on date nights and we’d walk together and get ice cream or read together or something.”

“When she’d just spend time with you,” Emma clarified.

Henry nodded.

“We haven’t done that in a long time.”

“I bet she misses doing it.”

“I do too,” Henry finally confessed.

“Well, you can tell her in the morning, once she’s feeling better. You guys can have a date night when she’s recovered.”

“Do you think she’ll be better by tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know, kid. How long is she usually out?”

“A day or something. I stay with David for a whole day usually.”

Emma nodded.

“Right, then maybe tomorrow night or maybe it’ll be Sunday morning instead.”

“Who’s gonna take care of me tomorrow? I think I’m old enough, but mom would be really mad if I were alone.”

“I’ll be spending the night tonight, so can hang out with me tomorrow. I’m going back to the school to decorate my class. Apparently I have to do that or something.”

“You have to be festive,” Henry said seriously. “Kids like decorations.”

Emma rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“Yeah, so I was told.”

“Do you have other clothes, by the way? People will make fun of you if you wear the same stuff as yesterday. Kids have good memories, you know.”

Emma laughed.

“Thanks for the warning, but given that it’s Saturday tomorrow, I think it’ll just be you and I there. I do have other clothes in my car though, just in case.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Old habit. Keep a bag ready to go just in case. And see? It serves me well.”

Henry nodded but didn’t say anything after that, instead turning to the movies on the wall and inspecting them closely.

“Do you like Avengers?”

“Dude, you need to drop anyone who dislikes The Avengers. You don’t need that give of negativity in your life.”

Henry rolled his eyes.

“You’re a weird grown up, Emma.”

“You’ve told me that before.”

Henry popped the DVD in the player, pressing play and turning up the volume.

“Not too loud, kid. Don’t wanna wake up your mom.”

“Oh, it’s soundproof. You can’t hear anything out of this room, so you can listen to movies with the surround sound and you won’t bug anyone.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up.

“Cool.”

“Yep.”

“If an axe murderer breaks in though,” she warned, “don’t pick this room to hide in cause if he finds you, no one will hear your screams.”

Henry looked at her oddly, then shook his head.

“You have issues.”

Emma threw her head back and laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rushing around like a mad person getting ready for a date + trying to use a mandolin in a rush = slicing open your hand and winning a free trip to the doctor's. I have only one hand right now. So, you're welcome 'cause this chapter was hella difficult to type.
> 
> Also, as previously mentioned, there are TWO versions of this story. This chapter is when the real divide between the two begins. If you DO NOT want G!P Regina (and instead, want to read about CIS-gendered women who eventually get into a lesbian relationship), stick with this site. This version of the story deals only with lesbian women with female genitalia. 
> 
> If you want to read G!P Regina as was the original prompt, please go to Fanfiction.net, same author, same story title.

Regina awoke in her bed, incredibly groggy and disoriented. She attempted to blink away the fog in her mind, rubbing her eyes before blinking repeatedly. She took a deep breath in, glancing around. The room was dark, but she could tell it was her bedroom. She had no recollection of actually getting there though. Regina frowned. The curtains were drawn, and she couldn’t see the usual cast of sunlight from the en-suite that illuminated her room. She was in complete darkness. She fumbled around on her nightstand until she reached her lamp, wincing as the artificial light hit her sensitive eyes. She quickly spotted a sticky note taped to a water bottle which she had most certainly not put there, reaching for both items. She quickly took a large gulp of the lukewarm liquid before reading the note.

_Regina,_

_You had a migraine attack last night. Henry’s with me at the school today; we’re decorating my class. You took 2 Imitrex around 9:30 last night and passed out pretty much right after. Breakfast from Granny’s in the fridge. Rest, drink, eat. I’ll bring Henry home after we’re done._

_Emma_

So it hadn’t been a terrible dream. She had actually collapsed against the bathroom floor, and Miss Swan had _carried_ her home and into her bedroom. How humiliating. She wondered how many other people would know what happened. How many people would the woman tell that the infallible Miss Mills had been struck down by a migraine? Or worse, how many others had _seen_ her incapacitated last night? It wouldn’t take many for people to find out. Storybrooke was small. Word got around. That, Regina knew from experience.

Regina glanced at her alarm clock to check for the time, only to see it had been unplugged. She slipped out of bed, noticing that her bathroom door had been closed, her housecoat pressed up against it on the floor. _To block out the light that would normally float into her room? Or did Miss Swan simply drop it and leave it there?_ It was unlikely that it was the latter, as the housecoat was always hung up on the other side of the door. The garment pressed up against the crack beneath the door explained why her bedroom had been so dark when she had woken up.

Regina glanced back at her nightstand, reaching for her phone. She clicked on the home button, eyes widening when she saw the time: _3.30 pm._ Christ. She had slept the entire day away. Regina drew herself a quick shower, only allowing herself a few seconds to enjoy the hot water before getting to task. She was out a few minutes later, brushing her hair and taking the blow dryer to it before pulling it back into a ponytail. She definitely wasn’t going to look like her usual self, immaculate and professional. But, she was still feeling a little groggy from yesterday, a little sluggish, and it was Saturday. Nobody would be there. Well, hardly anyone. There may be a few teachers there given that it had been parent/teacher night the evening before. But Regina didn’t plan on staying. She was only going to go to the school to retrieve her son and leave. But first, she needed to quiet her loudly rumbling stomach.

Regina grabbed her phone, heading downstairs and to the kitchen. She grabbed the promised food from the fridge (her stomach protesting loudly about the fact that it had not been fed in nearly 30 hours), opening the take out container and smiling softly at the message inside the lid _feel better, mom_. There was a stack of strawberry waffles and a side of breakfast sausages, her favourite.

_Henry._

Regina smiled as she plated the waffles and sausage, popping them into the microwave and grabbing her phone. She realised as she was about to dial that she didn’t have Miss Swan’s number, so she called the school instead. Occasionally, Mary Margaret came in on the weekend to catch up or to plan for the upcoming week. Given that they had just had parent/teacher night, the odds were good that she was in. Luckily (or unluckily, however you chose to look at it), Regina was correct. She was greeted by Mary Margaret’s irritatingly chirpy voice (Regina was definitely not recovered enough to hear that), wincing as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

“Yes, Miss Blanchard. It’s Miss Mills. I’m looking for Henry and for Miss Swan.”

“Oh, hi Regina! How are you doing? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine,” she responded through gritted teeth. How much did that vile woman know? “Where is Henry?”

“He was in the gym with a few of the other teachers, taking down the tables from parent-teacher night. I think they finished for today though. Buuuut, I’m looking in the parking lot and Emma’s car is still here. Do you want me to go get them for you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be there momentarily.”

“Okay, see you soon!”

Regina hung up. She had zero intention of meeting with that woman, but she was definitely going to head to the school and find her son and Miss Swan. She had a few words to say to the woman whom she had expressly forbidden from approaching her son. Now that the fog had begun to dissipate from her mind, Regina was getting angry.

She was angry that Miss Swan had given herself permission to enter her home uninvited, had dared enter her _bedroom_ , Regina’s most private quarters (even Henry was not allowed in unless invited) without an invitation. She was angry that Miss Swan had seen her so vulnerable. Regina was angry that the woman had even dared return to her home to retrieve her son and take him away, without asking permission. She was livid that her colleague had taken so many liberties. And she was also a little angry with David for not calling back and checking in, for not helping to prevent this disaster. Mostly though, Regina was angry with herself for being so weak, so helpless, and allowing herself to be seen in such a vulnerable state.

When the microwave beeped at her, Regina snapped out of her thoughts. She pulled out her waffles and covered them in a light layer of syrup, holding the plate up to eye level. _You need to eat._ Her stomach rose at the idea of ingesting anything, despite its earlier insistence that she need to eat. Regina was just too angry now, but she glanced up at Henry’s message, the first communication she’d received in months that wasn’t an angry one-worded answer. _Feel better, mom_. Mom. He had called her mom. He hadn’t called her that in… in so long. Regina took a bite, but the knot in her throat prevented her from swallowing. She put the container down and reached for a glass of water. She sipped it slowly until the knot untangled, and then she once again reached for her waffles.

Regina ate slowly, concentrating on the message on the box and not on the woman who had purchased them. Henry had obviously written the words; she’d recognise that writing anywhere. Had he also thought of the message or had that been _her_ too? Regina shook her head. _Henry._ Her stomach flipped with hope, hope that maybe her son was thinking of her. She felt a little guilty that he might have been worried, but she thought that perhaps if this helped him hate her a little less, she could live with a little guilt.

Regina ate, and when she swallowed down her last bite of waffle, she rinsed off her plate before slipping on her shoes. She was eager to see her son, even if part of her was also apprehensive about seeing the boy who had declared he hated her just a few short months ago. She truly hoped he would not repeat those words at her today. But _feel better, mom_ and hope gave Regina courage. She heaved a deep breath as she grabbed her purse and headed outside. Regardless of the potential for a negative reaction, she was his mother and she loved him, and she wanted to see him.

* * *

“Pink is the shi- uhhh- best, Henry. 90’s Pink was smoking hot and had awesome songs. Actually, she’s still smokin’ hot today.”

Henry shot her a look.

“Smoking hot, Emma?”

“What? She was. Is. Whatever.”

“You like girls?” He asked, curious.

“’Course I do, kid. Women are beautiful. Now, pay attention.  Swing your arm like this and move your shoulders back. Yeah, like that. Okay, now hop over, yep. Perfect. Now move your feet like I showed you, yes, and punch out.”

“There’s a lot of punching in this.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fun. It’s like boxing while you dance.”

“Do you box?”

“I do a bit of everything, kid. It’s good to stay active, to stay fit. It’s good for the heart, and girls like muscles.”

Henry made a face.

“Guys do too, don’t worry.”

Henry narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t like boys or girls, Emma.”

“You will one day. Now follow my lead.”

Emma hit play, leading as Henry followed her, half a step behind.

_“Most girls want a man with the bling bling,_

_Got my own thing, got the ching ching_

_I just want real looooooove._

_Most girls want a man with the mean green,_

_Don’t wanna dance if he can’t be everything I dream oooooooof_

_A man that understands real love.”_

Emma stopped the song, grinning proudly at him.

“You did awesome, kid! You just need to work on getting some muscles. Your arms are pretty floppy.”

Henry scowled, Emma laughing at his expression.

“I’m only ten. I’m too young to have muscles.”

“You already have ‘em. They’re just under your skin, see?”

Emma held up his arm, poking at his bicep.

“Here there’s some muscles. They’re asleep right now, I see. Gotta wake ‘em up.”

“Oh, yeah? And you have some then?”

Emma nodded, holding up her arm and flexing. She was proud of her body; she worked hard to get it looking the way that it did.

“I guess that’s why you were able to pick up my mom yesterday.”

“Well, that, and the woman weighs like a hundred pounds soaking wet. She doesn’t eat or what?”

Henry shrugged.

“She does, but not very much. Are we gonna play my song now?”

“Sure, kid. Have at ‘er.”

Neither one noticed the woman discreetly peering in on them, whose stomach fluttered as she watched her son so happily dance with the blonde. Regina felt a pang of jealousy, but she was helpless to stop watching. Henry just looked so _happy_ , happier than he had been in months. As much as she selfishly wanted to pull him away from the other woman, she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk removing the smile from his face, not when it had been absent for so long.

“Who’s the artist?”

“Kesha. She’s my favourite.”

“Kesha, huh? Alright.”

“What?” Henry asked, defensively, finger hovering over the ‘play’ button.

“Nothing. Never heard of her.”

“You have so. You like her. Why did you ‘huh’ me?”

“No reason, kid. Put the song on.”

Henry did as he was told, though Regina could tell something was on his mind. It seemed Miss Swan did too, from the way she kept glancing at him. Regina desperately wanted to step in, to make her presence known, but she wanted to know what was bothering Henry. She knew he would clam up the second she stepped in, even if he were happy (God, she hoped he would be happy) to see her. He had shut her out long ago, and even if they made a little progress today, they were far from a point where Henry would confide in her. So if she wanted to know, she needed to keep her distance. So, Regina reluctantly remained hidden, waiting for her son to open up.

Silence reigned over the room, both Miss Swan and Henry putting up new decorations until the boy finally acted, changing the song. He put it on some kind of hip hop, something Regina didn’t recognise. No doubt with a pornographic video.

“Hey, what’s with the song change? I like that song.”

“I thought you had never heard of it.”

“We both know I was lying. Why’d you switch it?”

“You think it’s weird. Just like everyone else.”

“Whoa, hey. No way. I did _not_ say that.”

“You implied it,” Henry responded bitterly, and Regina’s heart broke. “You huh’d me. The kids think I’m weird too for liking her. For liking _girl_ things.”

Emma put down the cartoon turkey she was holding, making her way over to Henry and dropping down in front of him to get at his eye level.

“First of all, kids suck. We’ve agreed on this, I know. But they still suck even though we know they suck. And sometimes they make fun of you for being different, but there is _nothing_ wrong with being different. It makes you unique, special. Way more interesting. You’re not a carbon copy of everyone else around you. And yeah, it sucks when they’re teasing you, and maybe it would just be easier to do what they do so they leave you alone, but there’s something to be said about being who you are. About being brave and just being yourself and not caring what people think. Cause it takes courage to stand out from the crowd, Henry. It’s easy to just blend and fit in, but it takes guts to stand up for yourself and be proud of who you are. Cause what other people think doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you think about yourself. Everyone else is always gonna have an opinion but no one’s opinion matters but your own.”

Henry nodded, sniffling.

“Still sucks.”

“Oh you got that right. I got in my fair share of fights and I got my ass kicked a few times for things I couldn’t help. Got called every name in the book and some that weren’t even in it. People like to talk about other people. It makes them not think about their own problems and inadequacies. But I survived, and I’m a pretty cool person now, I think. Ain’t got too many problems,” Emma said, faking a twitch in her neck. She smiled when Henry let out a small laugh. “There, keep your chin up, kid. You’re alright.”

Regina watched on in silence, her heart broken. She had no idea Henry was still being called names. He had when he was younger, but she thought that had stopped. And it tugged at her to hear Miss Swan speak to him so easily, making him feel better the way that she had. That used to be Regina’s job. It made her irritation with the other woman grow, not liking that she was stealing her spot in her son’s life, creeping in despite being warned to stay away.

“That why you got into those fights with Nick? He was calling you names?”

“No. He calls me names all the time, but not since you started getting really serious in class about no one bullying. Now he just does it on the playground.”

“So then why the fights?”

“He was spreading rumours about my mom.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, as did Regina. Henry had been defending her?

“That’s shitty.”

“I know. And they’re not even saying things that are true!”

Regina’s heart began to race. They were getting dangerously close to discussing a subject she did not want being discussed. She straightened, prepared to intervene should Henry say too much.

“What did they say?”

Henry looked down, scuffing his foot against the floor.

“They just talked bad about my mom.” He looked up, heaving a deep breath. He could trust Miss Swan, right? He trusted her, yes, he decided. “Cause, a long time ago-”

“Henry!” Regina greeted, as though she’d had no idea that he was mid conversation. “Hello.”

“Mom!”

Henry raced over, grin wider than she’d seen it in far too long, and just about barrelled Regina over where she stood. Warmth flooded her from head to toe, having received nothing from the boy in literal _months_ that could regarded as any kind of love or affection. It brought tears to Regina’s eyes, his delight at seeing her, and she squeezed him close.

“Are you feeling better, mom?”

“I am, my little prince. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, squeezing her tight around the middle. “I was worried.”

Regina’s heart swelled, too happy that he had cared for her to remember to feel guilty for making him worry.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my sweet boy. I’m fine.” Regina looked up at the woman who was trying very hard to look busy. She didn’t want her eavesdropping, so Regina led her son outside the classroom to speak with him. “Did Miss Swan take good care of you?”

“Yes,” he nodded eagerly. “She even made sure I was safe last night. She slept downstairs in case anyone broke in and then she woke me up this morning and got breakfast and made me brush my teeth and everything.”

Regina could not help the fire in her belly.

“She slept over?” she asked casually, trying hard to mask her anger.

“Mhmm. She said she wanted to make sure I was okay. And she wanted to be there in case you needed help.”

“Did you tell her to contact Mr. Nolan?”

Henry nodded.

“She did. She told him you had a migraine and she was there to take care of you.”

_And he accepted that?_

“He said he was happy she was there,” Henry continued, as if to answer her thought.

Regina bit her tongue. This was the disadvantage to keeping everything to yourself. David knew she was an immensely private person, and he respected that. That was why she trusted him. He had always respected her, one of the few people in this town who actually did. But as much as she trusted him with her son and with the secret that she suffered from debilitating migraines, she didn’t ever open up to him about anything personal. She never told him that she didn’t get along with their new colleague, though he should have assumed. Regina didn’t get along with any of their colleagues. But, if Miss Swan had told David that she was there to look after her, and that she was already in Regina’s home, David must have assumed she was invited. Regina’s eye twitched with anger.

“Hmm,” Regina answered, by way of response. “And are you okay?”

“Yep. Are we going home now?”

“We are. I just need to speak with Miss Swan for a moment.”

“You’re gonna thank her?” Henry checked, feeling a little distrustful. He could sense something was off with his mother, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He didn’t understand why his mom wasn’t happy. Emma had taken really good care of her, and of him, for free.

“I just need to speak with her.”

“She took really good care of me, mom. And of you. You should thank her.”

Rather than respond, Regina leaned forward and gave him a bright smile before kissing his cheek.

“I am very grateful you were so well taken care of. Now, why don’t you go sit in the car for a moment? I won’t be long.”

“You’re not gonna yell at her?”

“No, Henry. I won’t be yelling.”

“Good.” Henry jogged back to the classroom and peeked his head in, saying goodbye to his teacher before going out to the car.

Regina headed back into the classroom, feeling her anger rise with every step that she took.

“Uh-oh. That isn’t a good look.” _Dragon lady is pissed_. “You’re angry.”

“I’m livid.”

“Why?”

“Why? Where do I begin!” Regina took a deep breath, remembering the promise that she made about not yelling. “I expressly forbade you from approaching my son. I told you to stay away from me. I told you to leave. us. alone. You disregarded my warnings and you did the exact opposite! You entered my home, my _bedroom_ , uninvited. And then you spent the night, uninvited, in my home. You removed my son from his home and you brought him to another location without his mother’s permission. Have you any idea how many laws you have broken, Miss Swan? I could have you fired. Hell, I could have you imprisoned.”

“Well I’m sorry for doing you a God damn favour, Regina. Do you remember how out of it you were last night? Do you remember how you could barely walk? You couldn’t even keep your eyes open. What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave you on the bathroom floor and abandon the kid in my classroom?”

“You should have contact David Nolan. He would have taken care of it.”

“I only found out to call David after we were already in your house. By that point, I was already committed. I was too busy making sure my colleague wasn’t dead when I found her practically unconscious on the bathroom floor to ask her permission to take care of her. I’m sorry for not polling the neighbourhood to find out who usually takes care of you when you’re barely conscious. Jesus.” Emma, her own anger consuming her, walked away from the woman before her. “I’m sorry for fucking caring, Regina.” She said sarcastically.

“I didn’t ask you to care. I asked you to stay away from my son.”

“Well, too bad!” Emma raged, turning around and facing Regina. “That’s what people with a heart do, they care! They take care of people when they can’t. And like it or not, I care about your kid and he was worried about his mom. And because I’m not a heartless bitch, I took care of you too. Besides, what else was I supposed to do? Just walk away?”

“You should have called David,” Regina said through gritted teeth.

“I already told you I didn’t know I was supposed to call him until I was already pretty much done taking care of you! I wasn’t gonna call him in the middle of the night-”

“He would have come.”

“Well, whatever. It’s done and I can’t take it back. Jesus. I have never met anyone so ungrateful for help, for someone who cares.”

“You do not care, Miss Swan. You felt an obligation and it forced you to act. Congratulations on making yourself feel like a kind human being. You’ll sleep better for it, I’m sure.”

Emma stopped the angry expletives that wanted to come out. _Anger will not help you, Emma. When you feel yourself becoming consumed with anger, take a moment to analyse the situation and calm yourself down. It is easy to become lost in one’s rage._

Emma did as her old therapist told her and took a deep breath. Getting into a screaming match with her colleague, with the mother of her student, was definitely not something she should be doing. And she was annoyed with herself for falling into bad habits and letting herself become overcome with anger.

Emma slowed her breathing and just looked at Regina. She looked at the petite woman who was radiating anger, who was glaring so hard Emma wasn’t sure she could even really see through her squinted eyes. The woman standing before her was so different from the vulnerable woman who had whimpered in her arms last night, who had clung to her in pain. Was this how Regina had been living for the last…. Well, forever? She made up for what she lacked in size with anger? She certainly looked bigger when she was angry. And Regina was practically buzzing, she was so angry.

Emma’s therapist had repeatedly told her that anger was a shield, a form of protection. It was a secondary emotion masking what a person truly felt. What were the emotions he had said it could be used to hide? Hurt was one of them. Anger was Emma’s go-to emotion to hide her hurt. She knew that about herself. But Emma wasn’t sure Regina was feeling hurt. Scared? Scared of what? That Emma might tell everyone about what happened last night, maybe. Okay. Maybe scared. What else? Humiliation? Maybe Regina was feeling humiliated too. Anger was also a way to keep people from getting close, of pushing them away. Who wanted to get close to someone angry? Maybe Emma had gotten too close last night. She had, after all, entered the woman’s bedroom. She could have put Regina down on the couch and then left. She could have called David and told him to come over, like Henry had said, rather than make the decision to stay the night. Regina was right that Emma did not know her well enough to have entered her bedroom, a place where one kept their most intimate belongings. Maybe she also felt betrayed, or worse, violated, that Emma had entered her room.

Emma sighed, taking a step back and dropping her tense shoulders in an effort to appear less aggressive. She was going to try to communicate, the way her therapist had encourage her. Acknowledge, apologise, explain. No excuses.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I went into your house and into your bedroom without your permission. I went into your space uninvited, like you said. I violated your privacy. And I did take Henry without asking you. I…” Emma hesitated. She didn’t want to tell the truth, didn’t want to make herself vulnerable but she forced herself to. “I was worried about you,” she said honestly, “because I’ve never seen you so … just, hurting. And sick. And I wanted to help you because you weren’t in a place where you could do it. So I took charge and I did what I thought I should: I picked you up and I brought you home and I took care of your kid.”

“That was not your decision to make, Miss Swan,” Regina snapped, though most of the anger from her voice was gone in light of her colleague’s retreat, as well as her acknowledgment that she was wrong.

“It wasn’t. We’re not friends, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear. I guess I just thought… you would be happy or like, grateful that I did that for you.”

“I’m happy that Henry is safe, but you disregarded my warning and my wishes. I told you explicitly not to get near myself or my son. I am neither happy nor grateful for that. I am livid.”

“I did. And you have every right to be angry,” Emma said, taking a step back. She was suddenly awash with emotion. She was realising now how she had overstepped, that had made the wrong decision. She had just been trying to do the right thing, but Regina was right. She _had_ warned her to stay away, but Emma had disregarded her warning. Emma understood Regina’s anger, she did. But she couldn’t help feeling incredibly rejected because she really had been trying to do the right thing. Rejection was an old emotion that never failed to make her want to burst into tears though, and she needed to get out of here fast. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay away from you and it won’t happen again. Mary Mar- I mean, Miss Blanchard can probably switch Henry classes on Monday. I- I’m sorry.”

With that, Emma quickly made her way out of the class, irritated with herself for becoming emotional but unable to stop herself. She had wanted to do something nice, something helpful. She thought for sure this would make Regina see that she was just trying to be friendly, but it had backfired. Regina was even angrier than before. And Emma felt incredibly rejected and foolish. Hot tears burned behind her eyes, and as she burst out the back doors of the school, Emma began to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

Regina watched Miss Swan leave (run away, more accurately), and she couldn’t help a little pang of guilt even if she felt justified in her anger. The woman was an idiot, to be certain, but Regina did, admittedly, recognise that she seemed genuine in her desire to help. That did not erase the fact that Regina had expressly told her to stay away from her child, however, and that Miss Swan had done the opposite. But the fact that she had backed down, had calmly explained her intentions, and had tried valiantly to hide her tears, well… it touched a very small, very hidden part of Regina. She was not sorry she confronted her colleague though, not at all. Perhaps now it would sink into Miss Swan’s skull that her presence was not desired.

Regina pushed away the thoughts of her colleague’s soft voice, of her gentle touch, of the way she had shielded her and helped her the night before. None of that mattered. It was a one off, and Regina would take great care not to ignore her migraine, not to try to tough it out, in the future. She knew she couldn’t fight them, and she shouldn’t have tried. She should never have allowed herself to become so vulnerable. She had risked her son’s safety due to her irresponsible choices.

Regina sighed as she left the classroom, meeting up with her son in the car.

“Took you a long time.”

“Sorry. Miss Swan and I had much to discuss. Now, what would you like to do today?”

Henry shrugged, playing with the knee of his pants.

“Can we go home? I think we should talk.”

“Okay,” Regina responded carefully, feeling a little apprehensive.

They drove home in silence, Regina worried about what her son was going to say to her. He was very serious, and it concerned Regina greatly. It made her fear the worst.

“Is everything okay?” Regina asked, once they were inside the house.

Henry paced the living room as his mother sat on the couch. He had spent a lot of time thinking last night while his mother had been unconscious. His talk with Emma had made him really reflect, had made him consider things from his mom’s perspective, something he hadn’t done before. He stopped pacing when his name was called out again, looking at his mom’s worried expression.

“Sorry. I’m okay. But I- um, we have to talk. About something serious.”

“Okay. Is someone hurting you?” Regina asked cautiously.

“No. Nothing like that. It’s about my adoption.”

“Oh.”

“I talked with Emma. Um, with Miss Swan about it. Last night in her class. We- we talked a lot. And she said some stuff that made me think. And-” Henry shook his head. He was getting all mixed up in his thoughts. “She said that life doesn’t come with a guide book. That grown-ups don’t always know the right thing to do even if they act like they do. And sometimes they make mistakes or make like, choices that they think is right but can end up being wrong.

“Emma said… she said that you probably didn’t tell me I was adopted because you didn’t want me to feel different or that nobody wanted me. And she said- she said she thinks you made the decision you thought was right. For me. Even though I don’t think it was. You should have told me that I was adopted right away and you shouldn’t have made me believe I was your baby all my life. Because it’s like you lied to me and I don’t like that. My whole life I was lied to,” Henry said, choking back a sob. “And it made me hate you for a long time. Because you lied and now I can’t trust you. But after talking with Em- Miss Swan, I guess it makes sense maybe. That you didn’t tell me. Cause she said she was abandoned and nobody ever loved her, and she wishes someone would have wanted her because nobody ever did. And I think it still hurts her ‘cause she was almost crying talking about it. So maybe you didn’t want me to feel like that, like how she feels now still, and you didn’t want me to cry because my birth mom didn’t want me. But I wish you would have told me. Cause you lied. And lying is wrong. You shouldn’t have tricked me. You should have told me the truth.”

Regina, who was openly weeping now with her son, could do nothing but open her arms. Henry ran into them willingly, throwing himself at his mom. Regina clutched him close, sobbing against him as she held him tight. Her thoughts were racing in her mind, and she was unable to sort through any one of them. The only thing she could say was _I’m sorry_.

Henry stayed curled up in his mother’s lap, crying in her shoulder as she held him close. She repeated that she was sorry in his hair over and over again, and he nodded. He could hear her, but he couldn’t talk because his voice wasn’t working, his throat blocked by what felt like a big knot. He cried with his mom instead, holding her, until both of their tears slowed enough for them to talk.

“I’m sorry, Henry. Miss Swan was right that I never wanted you to feel unloved, so I waited to tell you. My intention wasn’t to trick you; I wanted to protect you. And I thought perhaps you would understand better when you were older, which is why I thought I would wait to tell you the truth. I never meant for you to find out the way that you did. I was not trying to lie to you, mijo. I love you very much.”

“Okay,” Henry said softly, rubbing his eyes.

“I was always going to tell you,” Regina insisted, pulling back to look into her son’s eyes. “Always. I just thought it would be best to wait. I never wanted you to feel different, to feel like you were an outsider. People can be cruel when they find out you are not like them, and I didn’t want you to be singled out for something you couldn’t help. I didn’t want people to talk about you. I didn’t want you to be teased for being adopted.”

Henry sat quietly as it suddenly clicked for him. He looked up at his mom, her words playing over and over in his head. _I didn’t want you to feel different. People can be cruel when they find out you are not like them._ Henry sat up straight, looking at his mother with comprehension.

“Because you were, right? Because people talked about you and they were really bad to you when they found out about Danielle.”

“Yes,” Regina finally admitted, when she could gather enough strength to speak. Even after nearly two decades, the thought of Danielle made her heart weep.

Henry’s eyes widened as the full weight of his mother’s confession fell upon him. She was trying to protect him. She wasn’t trying to trick him. She wasn’t trying to be deceitful and to keep him in the dark. To keep secrets. She thought if no one knew he was adopted, then they wouldn’t be cruel to him like they had been to her. _So **that’s** why she didn’t tell me._

Henry wasn’t happy she lied to him, but the explanation, the reasoning _why_ , it made so much sense. And it helped. It helped him to understand her, and it helped him to start to forgive her, at least a little.

Henry, now feeling guilty for lashing out when his mom was just trying to protect him, burst into tears all over again.

“Oh, mijo,” Regina said with a slight smile, pulling him close. “It’s okay, cielo.”

Henry shook his head.

“No. I’m s-sorry.”

“Oh, cariño. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Regina shushed, rocking him in her arms.

“I w-was so bad!”

“You were hurting, sweetheart. I know, baby. You felt betrayed. I won’t lie and say that your behaviour and the things that you said didn't hurt because they did. But I understood that you were feeling hurt as well and you were feeling betrayed. I know you didn’t mean those things, Henry.”

Henry shook his head vehemently.

“I didn’t. You’re not evil.”

Regina let out a soft chuckle.

“Some people think I am.”

Henry pulled away, not finding the humour in that sentence at all.

“You’re not,” he said insistently. “You’re not evil. You’ve been hurt lots so you act mean. Like I did.”

Regina reached out and wiped her son’s cheek.

“Oh, mijo. When did you get so grown up? Where did my little boy go?”

Henry shrugged, not really sure what to say to that.

“It sounds like you had a very long discussion with Miss Swan.”

“I did,” he answered, leaning back into the comfort of his mother’s embrace. “She said lots of things that made me think. And she made me realise lots of things.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Like that, in a way, it’s better to have a mom who adopted you than one who gave birth to you. Cause an adoptive mom picks you out and _chooses_ you. Chooses to love you. And she was right. Because you picked me.”

Regina smiled at Henry, but guilt churned deep inside of her belly. Her earlier conversation with Miss Swan replayed over in her mind, and it made her stomach turn as she suddenly realised she owed the woman a debt of gratitude for reaching her son in a way that she, as his mother, had been unable to.

“This must have been quite a conversation,” Regina finally said.

“It was. She’s smart, and she’s really nice. She made me think about lots of things. I feel bad that nobody wanted her though. Do you think we could invite her over at Christmas?”

“I’m sure Miss Swan has plans already. She’ll be with her friends or the family she’s made through her life.”

“I don’t think so. She just moved here and she’s alone. And she never talks about anyone. I don’t want her to feel like a ping pong ball anymore.”

Regina swallowed down the bile that burned at the back of her throat. Henry didn’t need to explain that analogy for Regina to understand it loud and clear.

“You should try and be her friend, mom. She doesn’t have family and you don’t have friends. She’s really nice and she gives good advice and she likes girls too,” Henry said, sitting up again. “So you have that in common. You should talk to her and be her friend.”

Regina forced a smile on her face at her son’s enthusiasm.

“I’ll think about it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Regina had promised to think about it. And she had. Thought about it, that was. She had done nothing but think all weekend, during the in between moments she was not distracted by Henry. She had enjoyed her time with him, cuddling, talking, playing. They had laughed and interacted in ways they hadn’t since before Henry had found out about the adoption. He had admitted that he was still hurt. However, he had just about forgiven her now that he understood that she had made a mistake, but that she had been trying to protect him with the choices she had made. Henry had opened up to her like never before, and it was _all thanks to Miss Swan. She helped me a lot._ And so Regina had been again reminded of the woman she had confronted, who had helped her so selflessly when Regina had been unable to help herself. And who had, for all intents and purposes, repaired the damaged relationship between mother and son. Something the man Regina _paid_ to do was unable to accomplish. And all that without expecting anything in return. It unnerved Regina. No one had been that nice to her in so long. She forgot what it was like, forgot that there were people who were capable of being nice. Well, she knew some people were nice, but no one had been kind to her in decades.

Regina didn’t like it, didn’t like thinking of Miss Swan’s kindness because it made her feel lonely. It was easy to forget she was alone in the world when she kept herself isolated from everyone. But thinking of Miss Swan’s kindness reminded Regina of what she’d been missing by keeping everyone at bay. It reminded her of what it was like to have someone on her side. She hadn’t had anyone on her side, besides her father, in so long. Miss Swan’s gentle words highlighted everyone else’s glares, sneers, and biting comments simply because they reminded Regina that people were, in fact, capable of treating her nicely. They simply chose not to. And that hurt, a feeling Regina had not allowed herself to think of, to dwell on, to contemplate in decades. She kept herself shut off, but thinking of Miss Swan and her kindness, well, it threatened to reignite emotions Regina hadn’t let herself feel in nearly twenty years.

Regina’s mind raced all weekend. She thought, and thought, and thought. She might not be happy that her colleague had completely disregarded her warning, but Regina eventually reached the conclusion that she was satisfied that Miss Swan had meant it when she had apologised and that she did regret her actions, especially given her reaction in her classroom. Regina eventually admitted to herself she did believe that Miss Swan understood that she had been wrong, but… well, Regina felt like she owed her a thank you. Mostly for what she had done for her son, for mending their relationship (she still couldn’t believe that Miss Swan had been able to do in one night what Regina had been paying a therapist for months to do, unsuccessfully). But also because, even if Regina were not happy that she had violated her warning, Miss Swan _had_ treated her with greater care than anyone had in a long time. Even David, as much as he meant to Regina (secretly, of course), would not have handled her as delicately as Miss Swan had that day. And Henry, well, Henry could not stop singing her praises. She had obviously left an impression. On both of them.

By the following Monday morning, Regina was actually looking forward to the day’s Professional Development day (she generally dreaded PD days as they were days spent out of the classroom, thrust into a room with colleagues in order to _learn things_. It usually meant Regina was paired up with whoever was leftover, forced to interact with people she had to pretend didn’t gossip and talk about her behind her back). But a PD day meant _all_ the teachers were going to be present, including Miss Swan. Regina was eager to speak with her after all the contemplating she’d done over the weekend. And so she looked forward to today, so that they could discuss what had happened.

Regina dropped her son off with her father, making him promise that he would keep vigilant over Henry when he was with his grandmother. _I mean it, daddy. I want you to make sure she doesn’t say anything nasty to him_. Cora had never said anything cruel to Henry, had never treated him the way that she treated her own daughter, had never made any kind of snide comment to make him feel bad about himself or the things that he liked, but Regina still didn’t trust her. Despite the fact that they had watched Henry dozens of times before without incident, Regina still could not help that little knot of worry in her belly. But, she didn’t have much choice. David was her go-to babysitter, and he was unavailable as he would be at school with her. She had no friends, and she certainly did not trust a stranger to watch her child. So she had been forced to ask her parents. Regina was more than happy to have her father watch Henry; it was her mother she worried about.

Regina’s fears were calmed almost the second she walked into the school, receiving an excited _they’re taking me to the stables!_ from Henry. It was a relief to know they were going there, for her mother could not pick at her son while he was out riding. (Her mother always stood far away from the track, watching and waving from a safe distance.)

_-I’m so happy to hear that, sweetheart. Wear a helmet and have fun!_

_-I will! Love you._

Regina smiled warmly.

 _-Love you too_.

Arriving obscenely early had its advantages, namely that Regina was able to move around the names on the tables so that she and Miss Swan were seated together. The gym where they were to have their PD day had been filled with tables which sat two teachers at each one, and Regina smiled to herself as she took her seat, fiddling with the _Emma Swan_ name plate for a second before setting it down to hang her purse on the back of the chair as she waited.

Teachers slowly trickled in about half an hour later, each one glancing at the dreaded _evil queen_ and then over to the poor sap who had been placed next to her. Regina knew each and every one of them was relieved not to find his or her name next to her, but she reminded herself that she didn’t care what these people thought (no matter what she might feel inside). She played with her phone as she waited, brows furrowing when she realised they were five minutes past their usual start time and Miss Swan still had not arrived.

A man Regina did not recognise strolled in a few minutes later, heading to the front of the tables and standing before the white board.

“Welcome everyone, I’d like you to take your seats now please and settle down.”

Regina glanced back at the clock and then at the entrance, the woman she had been waiting for finally making her way, utterly out of breath, into the gym.

Emma discreetly looked around as she tried to catch her breath, noting that every single table was full, save for one. She looked down and groaned internally, her name sitting there mockingly. The icing on this day’s cupcake. She had woken up incredibly late this morning, her alarm hadn’t gone off, so needless to say she’d had a terrible start to today. _And it just keeps getting better._

Emma ducked down as she made her way to where she was expected to sit, pulling the chair as far away from Regina as she could and sitting down. She ignored the woman seated next to her, feeling her eyes (which were no doubt glaring) looking her up and down.

“I didn’t set this up, so you can stop glaring at me,” Emma whispered, looking at the speaker. “I’ll ask to switch on break.”

“I wasn’t glaring. I was hoping to catch your attention. And I’d prefer you didn’t ask to switch, as I’m the one who changed our seating arrangements so that you would be seated next to me.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, looking over at Regina questioningly. She was unable to ask about her motives, however, as the speaker directed his attention to the two women.

“Ladies, I’ll ask that you don’t talk right now. I’d like everyone’s attention, thank you.”

Irritated at being reprimanded like a child, Regina fished in her bag for a pen and her notebook. Emma grabbed the paper first though, scribbling away on it.

**I said I was sorry. And trust me, I am. So if you did this so you could spend the day yelling at me, don’t bother. I learnt my lesson.**

_My intention was not to ‘yell’ at you. Given the way we were just chastised like children, I don’t believe that’s even an option now._

**Then what do you want? You wanted me to leave you alone, but you make me sit next to you. Is this your punishment? To make me feel uncomfortable for an entire day? Cause trust me, mission already accomplished and it’s only 9:03.**

_No. And I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I wanted to tell you… I spent much of this weekend speaking with my son. He-_ Regina paused here, gathering her thoughts before continuing, _he informed me that you had a lengthy discussion about his adoption on Friday night._

Emma read the paper, but she didn’t respond. Realising she wasn’t going to get an answer, Regina took back the notebook and continued.

_I want to thank you for the things that you said to Henry, for helping him to understand the motives behind my actions._

**I didn’t do it for you. I did it for him.**

_I know. And you have helped him immensely. We… had a lengthy conversation. He told me what he has been feeling and he opened up to me in a way that he has not in months. It was thanks to the talk that he had with you. So, thank you._

**Welcome.**

Regina looked at the hastily written single word on the paper and then glanced up at the woman next to her, who was staring straight ahead, ignoring her completely. She hesitantly grabbed the notebook again and began writing.

_Have you spoken to Miss Blanchard?_

**I’ll talk to her today.**

_Please don’t. I believe… it would be most beneficial to Henry for him to stay in your class._

**Can’t stay away from the kid if he’s in my class.**

Regina took a calming breath. Her table partner was being very curt, but she couldn’t say that she blamed her.

_I’m asking you not to._

Emma could feel her blood boiling. What was it with this woman and her fucking back and forth opinions? Emma was finally going to stay away just like Regina wanted (after what happened on Saturday, Emma was more than happy to never see the woman again), and now she was telling her she _wanted_  her to stick around? No.

Rather than respond, Emma ignored Regina’s repeated attempts to get her attention. Only when the notebook was quite literally trust in her lap did Emma finally have no choice but to acknowledge it.

_Henry needs an adult he can trust. Right now it- it isn’t me. But he has stated that he trusts you. And I’m inclined to… agree. I do not trust easily. But I’m willing to try. I’m asking you to disregard what I said during our previous conversations and to please continue to help Henry as you have been._

_Henry needs an adult in whom he can confide, and right now that person is not me. Please do not punish Henry for his mother’s faults, nor because you are angry with her. He has been punished enough because of me._

Emma looked down at the words on the paper and then looked over at the woman who had written them. She was sitting upright, spine rigid, hands curled up in her lap, looking at the far wall away from everyone else. Emma could see the white knuckles from the sheer force Regina was using to clutch her hands together.

**Having a mom who loves you is never a punishment.**

The words were a peace offering, Regina’s confession stirring something inside of her. And had Emma not been paying such close attention, she would not have seen the tears that gathered in Regina’s eyes when they read the words she had written. When the other woman looked away again, Emma reached again for the paper.

 **I won’t ask to get him changed classes, but you swear here and now I have your permission to talk to the kid if he needs someone to talk to**.

 _You do_.

**Good. I won’t take him anywhere and we’ll only talk at school. And if there’s anything that you need to know, I’ll tell you.**

_Thank you_.

 **Anything else then? Cause honestly I just wanna settle this between us and then we don’t ever have to talk again**.

Regina looked down at the notebook. Why was she suddenly so saddened by the words? They were not friends, not even close. They never spoke before. And this was what she had wanted, right? For Miss Swan to continue to help Henry. There was never any intention for the two of them to speak. So then why did this feel like such a loss?

Perhaps because this weekend, Regina’s mind supplied, she had briefly allowed herself to contemplate the thought that Miss Swan may actually become something Regina had not had in twenty years: a friend.

_If that’s what you would prefer._

Emma read the response and looked over at her, whispering a _seriously?_

**“If that’s what I would prefer?” Regina, you made it perfectly clear that you want me _far_ away from you and the kid. So don’t act like _I_ want this. This is what _you_ prefer. You want me to stay faaaar away and honestly, it’s probably for the best because I don’t like getting yelled at for doing shit that any other human being on this planet would be thanking me for. **

_I retracted my earlier request for you to stay away from my son._

**Well then from you!**

_Perhaps I have changed my mind. I stand by my earlier statement that you should not have violated a direct request to stay away from myself and from my son. But I suppose it was… I suppose I am grateful that you do not know how to listen and that you blatantly disregarded my wishes because had you obeyed them, you would not have had that conversation with Henry and my son would still hate me._

**I don’t push people’s boundaries if it’s like… obviously bad. But the kid needed someone to talk to. He didn’t hate you. Maybe what you did, but he didn’t hate _you_. **

_It is not up to you to decide whether a boundary is worthy of being pushed or not. If it is there, you must respect it. And he may not have hated me then, but it certainly felt like it._

Emma stared at the page, sighing. Regina had a point, even if she were loathe to admit it.

**Yeah. Fine. You’re right. I do that sometimes, push when maybe I shouldn’t. I’m impulsive, but you’re kind of-**

Regina noticed Emma hesitating, and when she read over her shoulder, she reached for the notebook to complete the thought.

_A bitch. The word you’re looking for is ‘bitch’._

Emma smirked, for the first time glancing over at Regina and sharing a small smile.

**Maybe I thought it – a lot – but I’d never say it to your face. I’m not that disrespectful.**

_No, you’ll just say it behind my back like everybody else. I can just imagine what else you’ve heard. This town is full of gossips, the one thing I despise about small towns._

Emma frowned at the page, guilt eating at her. Regina, seeing the woman’s expression, began writing again.

_It’s fine. I’m sure the things that were said weren’t untrue._

**It’s not fine. I’m sorry, Regina. I have talked about you behind your back. I called you a bitch to Ruby. And to Mary Margaret. I was pissed and so I said that you were a bitch.**

_I **am** a bitch._

**Maybe sometimes you are.**

Regina raised an eyebrow and Emma snorted.

**Okay, well. You can be a bitch, and you kinda have been since the second we met, but still I shouldn’t have said it.**

_You’re entitled to your opinion._

**Nobody likes being talked about. I won’t do it again. And I disrespected a colleague by talking about her to someone she works with. So, sorry for that. Next time I think you’re a bitch, I’ll just think it really hard instead of saying it out loud. Deal?**

Regina rolled her eyes, but the smirk on her lips did not go unnoticed by the woman beside her. When Regina didn’t make a move to grab the notebook, Emma continued writing.

**So, Henry’s okay?**

_He is._

**Good.**

Regina hesitated for a moment before grabbing the notebook.

_Thank you for speaking to him and for opening up to him the way that you did. You’re able to relate to him in a way that I cannot and you explained things to him that I didn’t… anyway, thank you. For what you did. Most would have ignored Henry because he is my child._

Emma blinked as she re-read the words. _Most would have ignored Henry because he is my child_. What? Seriously? Is this the punishment Regina was talking about? Had Henry been suffering because of who his mother was? Seriously? What the hell kind of people populated this town? Who punishes a little kid for who his parent is?

Before she could contemplate the thoughts any further, Emma’s attention was ripped away by the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor. She looked around, everyone now chatting and standing up.

“I believe it’s time for a break,” Regina said, reaching over to close the notebook. She put it in her purse, which she then hoisted over her shoulder.

“Oh. Wanna go for an ice cream?”

Regina blinked.

“It’s ten thirty a.m.”

“So?

“So, it’s much too early for ice cream.”

Emma got up, following Regina out of the gym.

“Says who? We’re adults. We can have ice cream whenever we want.”

Regina looked over, eyebrow raised.

“Is that how it works?”

“Damn right.”

Regina rolled her eyes and looked away.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you, Miss Swan. I do not eat ice cream before noon.”

“Fine then. What are we doing?”

“Well, I’m going to the restroom. You may do whatever you like.”

Emma paused in front of her classroom, waving Regina off.

“I’ll meet you back at the gym. I have something important to find.”

Emma headed into her class, grin firmly in place. There were Cheetos stored in her desk drawer from last week. She rifled through her bottom drawer until she found the prized possession, holding it up triumphantly. She tore open the bag, propping herself up against her desk as she munched on her snack. Emma sat back and enjoyed her food, chewing slowly as she relaxed in the comfort of her classroom.

“Cheetos was the important item to find?” Regina asked ruefully, after returning from her bathroom break.

“Yep,” Emma said proudly, displaying her cheesy fingers. “If I have to continue through this boring ass lecture, I need a bribe.”

Emma walked over to the door, following Regina.

“You’re worse than the students.”

“Probably. Hell of a lot cuter than some of ‘em though.”

Regina snorted, then schooled her features to look affronted.

“Too late, Mills. You laughed. You’re just as horrible a person as I am. Really,” Emma asked, feigning indignance. “Who mocks school children?”

Regina rolled her eyes, sitting back down in her seat once they re-entered the gym.

\-------------------

They ceased their note passing for the remainder of the day, mostly because the rest of it involved group activities and active participation. Regina and Emma did their activities together, and Regina had to admit it was nice to have a partner who didn’t actively wish she were elsewhere. Emma was engaging, though guarded, but Regina couldn’t really blame her for that. It turned out to be a nice day in the end, and when it finally came to a close, both women were grateful. After they were dismissed, they walked together down the hall, both startled to hear an enthusiastic _mom!_ when they rounded the corner to the Spanish Immersion wing.

“Henry, darling. What are you doing here?” Regina glanced up, back straightening when she noticed who was with him. “Mother. Where’s daddy?”

“Inspecting your classroom. Regina, dear, you didn’t tell me you had lowered yourself to the toddlers.”

“Mother,” Regina said warningly. Luckily, she was saved from any further critical words, her father choosing that moment to exit her classroom, bright smile on his lips as always. “Hi, daddy.”

“Regina, your students are quite lucky. You’ve done a wonderful job of decorating.” He approached her, kissing her cheek. “Hello, my sweet.”

Hearing the pride in her father’s voice more than made up for her mother’s biting tone (as well as her presence). Regina’s shoulders relaxed under his strong hands, smiling softly at him before turning to her son.

“Did you have fun at the stables, my little prince?”

“I did. I got to jump with Lightning!”

“You did? Well done.”

“Don’t be rude, Regina. You’ve forgotten to introduce us to your friend.”

Regina’s cheeks grew hot with both anger and embarrassment. It wouldn’t have mattered what she had done, she’d have done it wrong. Had she introduced Emma first, she’d have been reprimanded for not greeting her mother. Had she not acknowledged Henry and inquired about his day, her mother would have asked why she didn’t take an interest in her child’s activities. Regina could never win when it came to her mother, and the best that she could do was to try and get this interaction over and done with as soon as possible. She loved her father, more than anything (apart from Henry), but she saw him so rarely because Regina just could not tolerate her mother. She'd endured her during her youth, when she'd had no choice. Now, she didn’t have to put up with her biting, cruel words, so she very rarely went to her parents’ home.

Regina took a deep breath and reached out to beckon Miss Swan closer, though she kept her body between her colleague and her mother.

“Mother, daddy, this is Emma Swan, my colleague. Miss Swan, these are my parents, Cora and Henry Mills.”

“I see where you got the great name,” Emma said, smiling at Regina’s father.

The older man grinned proudly.

“So this is the Miss Swan we’ve heard so much about,” Cora said, false smile settling in place. “Henry has told us _so much_ about you, including your little sleepover this weekend.”

Regina could hear the disapproval in her mother’s voice. She then saw it in her mother’s eyes as the older woman glanced over at her. Her tone came out pleasant and sweet as ever, and Emma responded, laughter in her voice.

“Oh, it was hardly a sleepover. I slept on the couch and-”

“You forced your guest to sleep on the furniture?” Cora asked her daughter, appalled.

“No, I-”

“I insisted,” Emma said casually. “It looked really comfortable, and I was right.” (She had not been right. The couch had been horrendously uncomfortable, but Emma was quickly catching onto the dynamic between mother and daughter, and she felt strangely protective of her now former (?) enemy).

“There was a perfectly serviceable bed upstairs, Regina,” Cora scolded, ignoring Emma’s response. “I raised you better than that. And don’t stand like that. Honestly, after all of the classes we paid for, you still cannot-”

“Alright! I believe that’s enough of that,” Henry Sr. cut in, tone drowning out the sound of his wife’s voice (who looked over at him disapprovingly). “We should be going now, dear. We have dinner with the McCutcheons.”

“Yes,” Cora agreed, turning to her grandson and smiling. “Thank you for the lovely day, Henry. It was a pleasure spending time with you, as always. It’s a shame your mother doesn’t bring you around more often-”

“ _Mother-_ ”

“-we’d love to see more of you. Perhaps we could bring you to the stables again so you may practise your riding some more.”

The boy’s eyes widened, nodding.

“I’d like that.”

“Thank your grandmother for bringing you, Henry,” Regina reminded gently, stroking the back of Henry’s head.

“Thanks, grandma. Thanks, grandpa. See you next time.”

Henry Sr. approached his daughter, pulling her into a tight hug, holding her a little longer than what would be considered a typical hug goodbye.

“I love you, my sweet. Take care of yourself.”

“I do, daddy. I love you too.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

“And you, Mr. Mills.”

The couple waved as they left, Emma turning to Regina and muttered lowly as she raised her eyebrows and made an exaggerated expression.

“Can’t say the same for you, Mrs. Mills.”

Regina gave a tight smile. She was embarrassed, and she truly wished her colleague had not just bared witness to the type of person her mother was.

“Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Noticing that Henry was eavesdropping, Emma turned to the boy. “Hey, kid. Go in my class and grab my bag, will you? I think I left it in my desk. Or maybe on the floor or in the cupboard. Somewhere.”

“You’re always losing your stuff,” Henry chided.

“I know. You might have to look for it a bit.”

“Didn’t you-” Regina started, but was cut off.

“Go on, kid. Your mom said we can go for ice cream since it’s after noon. You gotta find my wallet first though.”

Henry took off before the adults could change their mind, and Regina gave Emma a look.

“I never agreed to that.”

“After that shit show with your mom? You need it.”

Her interaction with her mother today was exceedingly pleasant in comparison to most times, but Regina kept that knowledge to herself.

“Your bag is in your car, by the way. You left it there after lunch.”

“Yeah, I know. Needed the kid to take off. He’ll be busy for a while. I’ll suddenly remember I left it in my car once we’re done talking.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

“This is news to you?” Emma asked with a grin, but her expression quickly turned apologetic when she reflected on her interaction with Regina’s mother. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say, if I should explain what happened, but I kinda gathered quick that your mom is a piece of work, so I just did my best to get her to back off. Didn’t really work though. If I would’ve known she was gonna berate you ‘cause I _chose_ to sleep on the couch, I would’ve lied and said I was upstairs.”

Regina sighed heavily.

“It’s not your fault. It’s probably a good thing that you were honest because it distracts from the fact that I had a ‘stranger’ in my home. She would have gone off about how I was irresponsible putting Henry at risk like that.”

Emma gave her a look.

“You should tell her you already told me off for it then.”

“The less my mother knows, the better. Now, shall we go find my son?”

Sensing the woman’s discomfort, Emma nodded.

“Sure. What kind of ice cream you getting, by the way?” Emma asked. “I’m thinking Rocky Road. Or Moose Tracks. Or Birthday Cake.”

“I never agreed to ice cream.”

“Yeah but I already told the kid. So you have to get some now. I’m gonna guess you probably like something disgusting like mint chocolate chip, don’t you? You seem too adult-y to enjoy the good kinds of ice cream.”

Emma glanced over when she didn’t receive a response, her face contorting in disgust when she saw Regina smiling.

“Aw, come on, really? Chocolate and toothpaste, Regina?”

Regina couldn’t help it, she laughed. Emma stared, nearly in awe at hearing the woman’s laughter for the first time since they’d met.

“Do not shame me for my tastes.”

Emma snapped out of it, teasing Regina with an expression of pure repulsion.

“Nasty.”

“What’s nasty?” Henry asked, peeking out from the cupboard at the back of the class. “I can’t find your bag anywhere, Emma.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, kid. Just remembered it’s in my car (the boy scowled). And what’s nasty is your mom liking mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“It’s not that bad,” he defending hopping down from the chair he had pushed to the back and returning it to its rightful place. “Not the best one, but not horrible. So does this mean we’re still going?”

“Yep. Your mom even said she’s paying.”

Regina shot Emma a look.

“Now you’re just pushing your luck.”

Emma grinned as pulled out her keys from her pocket.

“I’m driving!”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you've probably noticed my updates are coming much more infrequently. The thing is I moved and do not have internet at my home (yay being poor) so I can only upload when I actually have access to free, public internet, which is not often. So unfortunately until my budget balances a little better, it'll be longer waits between updates. That being said, you should probably (definitely) get your hopes up for a Christmas present :)

The next day, Regina sat in her classroom, looking forward to her lunch break for a little peace and quiet. She loved ‘her’ kids. She did. But having 15 four year olds running around was exhausting work. Her lunch break was a much needed break before she repeated the same routine for the afternoon.

Unwrapping her grilled chicken and veggie tortilla, Regina took a small bite before pulling out her book and beginning to read. This was the same routine she’d had ever since she’d begun teaching at Storybrooke Elementary School, eating alone in the classroom and reading to pass the lunch hour. When she’d taught the older grades, she occasionally marked tests or projects during her lunch, but since she’d moved to kindergarten, she spent those forty minutes of lunch relaxing and reading. Today was no different, Regina lifting her book into her lap as she settled back in her chair, taking another delicate bite of her wrap.

After glancing up at her door and ensuring it was closed, Regina wiggled back on her chair and swung her feet up onto her desk. It was highly unprofessional and a little rebellious, but she was not on company time currently (her lunches were not paid), no one was here, and no one ever came looking for her. So she allowed herself the small rebellious act, sighing as she continued reading about the nurse who was secretly in love with her best friend. Regina was just about to take another bite of her meal when her door swung open, pulling a gasp from her lips as looked in horror at the door. She scrambled to sit up right, immediately dropping her feet to the floor and standing up straight.

Emma halted, hand on the door handle, eyes wide and mouth open, staring dumbly as the ever composed Regina Mills fumbled with her book and yanked on her skirt as she stood.

“Miss Swan, I-”

“Did you just have your feet up on your desk?”

“No, of course not-”

“You totally had your feet up on your desk,” Emma said with a grin. “I can’t believe the ever professional Regina Mills actually had her feet on her desk. How badass of you, Miss Mills.”

Regina huffed.

“Is there something I can do for you? It is my lunch hour. I’m not to be disturbed about work matters on my personal time.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not here about work stuff,” Emma said with a smile, not the least bit perturbed by Regina’s snappy tone.

“Then why are you here?”

Emma shrugged, coming into Regina’s classroom and closing the door.

“I came to say hi.”

“Hello. Now please show yourself out.”

Emma chuckled.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I caught you off guard. I do a hell of a lot worse than just put my feet up once in a while.”

Regina felt her cheeks turn pink.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not. Now, is there something I can help you with?”

“Nope. Just dropped by to see if you wanted to grab lunch together.”

“Well, as you can see, I already have a lunch.”

“Come on, Regina. Don’t be like that. We were making good progress,” Emma said gently. “Let’s not go back to what we were like.”

Regina sighed, sitting back down.

“Don’t you have friends to bother, Miss Swan?”

“Emma. And I’m trying, but she’s not being very hospitable. She’s actually kinda cranky.”

“I am not cranky,” Regina said irritably.

Emma raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“You’re cranky,” Regina muttered.

Emma laughed, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to Regina’s desk.

“How’s your day going?”

“It’s fine,” Regina relented, taking a deep breath to calm herself as she sat back down. “The children are adorable, as always, although Mikaela had to be sent home. She looked about two minutes away from vomiting on my shoes. I’ve no idea why her parents thought it a good idea to send her to school.”

“So they don’t have to pay a ‘sitter,” Emma said casually, slouching in her seat. She regretted not bringing those Twizzlers she had stashed in her desk. She was hungry and seeing Regina’s lunch reminded how long it had been since she’d eaten. “It’s a lot easier, and cheaper, to send the sick kid to school and infect everyone else instead of finding a babysitter and then paying her. Or him.”

“Indeed. Well, hopefully they will keep her until she’s well. I do not want to get sick.”

Emma snorted.

“You’re with the toddlers. They’re always sick.”

“They aren’t toddlers.”

“Just about. Ankle biters, the lot of them. Little Oompa Loompas.”

Regina bit on her lower lip to keep from laughing.

“So Henry told me he had fun at our movie night last night. He suggested doing it again soon.”

“Shouldn’t you be teaching my son instead of discussing extra-curricular activities in class?” Regina sassed.

“He started it.”

“He is a child.”

“Yeah. And he started it.”

“You’re the adult.”

“Yeah, and my name is Emma. The sky is blue. Our president is a walking Cheeto with a bad toupé. And thongs suck because they’re basically constant wedgies. So?”

Regina shot her a confused look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought we were stating facts,” Emma said cheekily. “Did you have a point?”

“You’re annoying.”

“Oh, Mills, you wound me,” Emma said, covering her chest with her hand. “That cut me deep.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“So, I’m starving. Come with me to the cafeteria so I can buy lunch.”

“Do you need an adult to accompany you, Miss Swan?”

“I do. Let’s go.”

“I have a lunch. I’m sorry if you didn’t think to pack yourself one, but that is not my problem. Besides, I have things to do. I don’t have time to walk you to the cafeteria.”

“Like what?” Emma asked, curious. She had only glimpsed the book Regina had desperately tried to hide when she’d first walked into the class. She hadn’t caught the title, but the cover told her all she needed to know. “Like reading smutty books?”

Emma laughed when Regina’s hand shot out to slam shut the drawer that Emma had opened, the very drawer that Regina had quickly shoved her book into earlier.

“Oh, don’t be shy. We all like a little word porn once in a while.”

“It isn’t pornography. It’s a novel.” A novel with a lot of descriptive scenes of lovemaking, Regina thought to herself, but her colleague needn’t know that.

“Come on. Please come to the caf with me? I promise not to go through your drawers when you’re not in your class to find the book if you come with me.”

“That would be an extreme violation of my space, Miss Swan.”

“Right. So let’s work together and make sure it doesn’t happen. Caf?”

“You realise this is extortion.”

“Pfft. It’s like, blackmail at worst.”

“Which is still illegal.”

“I like to think of it as less than lawful.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“Yeah but it sounds better than illegal, doesn’t it?”

Regina couldn’t argue with that.

\--------

“The cafeteria has gotten much more popular since the last time I came in here,” Regina commented, looking around at the sheer amount of students and faculty in the room. “It used to be much smaller as well.”

“They renovated like four or five years ago M&M said. You haven’t been here in that long?”

“Eminem? The rapper?”

Emma laughed loudly, shaking her head.

“No,” she said, chuckling as she grabbed a tray. “Em and em. Mary Margaret. Principal Blanchard.”

“Oh,” Regina said, fighting a blush as she pretended to contemplate the veggies behind the counter.

“I definitely am not cool enough to know Eminem personally,” Emma responded, not calling attention the other woman’s embarrassment. “And I don’t think he even knows this school exists. I gotta admit though, I _am_ surprised that _you_ know who he is.”

“I’ve heard of him. Vaguely. From the children,” Regina added dismissively, like she didn’t spend her entire car ride to work rocking out to “Lose Yourself” this morning.

“Mhmm,” Emma said, grabbing a scone and a chocolate muffin and adding them to the Doritos and chocolate milk she had already grabbed. Before she could say anything else though, Granny interrupted from behind the counter.

“My, my. If that isn’t Regina Mills,” Granny said with a smile. “You sure are a sight for sore eyes, girl. I heard you still worked here. But I thought that was just a rumour seeing as I never see you in here anymore.”

“Hello, Eugenia.”

“Euge- what the hell? When did I become Eugenia? Get over here and greet me properly.”

Regina did as she was told, making her way over to the woman who had practically raised her when she had been in school. She was quickly wrapped in an embrace, strong arms holding her tight.

“My name is Granny, Regina Mills. Always has been, always will be. I’ve been waiting for you to come around, Peep. I’ve missed you.”

Regina’s voice caught in her throat, the term of endearment causing her to lose the stiffness in her muscles and relax. She nodded against Granny’s shoulder, the woman’s familiar smell invading her nostrils and filling her with a sense of comfort that had been all but forgotten.

“I thought you had retired,” Regina said softly, pulling away to look at Granny.

“Tried. But I missed these damn kids too much. So when she asked me to come back, I came. You’d know that if you ever left that room of yours, Peep. Too much time alone isn’t good.” Granny glanced over at the blonde woman who was standing awkwardly off to the side. “Well, don’t stand there like a creeper, Emma. Come here.”

Emma gave a small chuckle, approaching the women.

“I didn’t wanna intrude.”

“No intrusion,” Granny said reassuringly. “So you’re the girl responsible for bringing this one here out of her dungeon. How’d you manage that?”

“Blackmail.”

Granny laughed.

“Blackmail! What the heck did you blackmail her with? This one here doesn’t do anything besides read, teach, and seclude herself from anyone over the age of eighteen. How did you manage to find something to use against her?”

Regina panicked, seeing the way Miss Swan smirked at her cockily. She opened her mouth to cut off the blonde, terrified of what she might tell the older woman.

“She’s got a wicked coke addiction. Like, massive. I’m talking mini scales, Barbie sized mirrors, razor blades, and white powder everywhere in that classroom of hers, and it’s not at all chalk either. Threatened to tell on her if she didn’t join me for lunch.”

Regina’s shoulders dropped in relief (she really didn’t want the woman she perceived as a grandmother to know about her _alleged_ reading material).

“Well, a girl’s gotta find a way to get through the day. You just make sure to hide the evidence, Peep,” Granny said, patting Regina on the shoulder. “I have to get back to work now, but you come back tomorrow. I’ve missed you.”

Regina nodded, smiling at Granny. She followed Emma to the cash, remaining quiet as the other woman chatted with the cashier as she paid for her lunch. She looked around at the students chatting at the tables, laughter and children’s voices filling the room. This place was so loud, so energetic, so _happy_ , and so different from her own classroom at lunch time.

“Ready?” Emma asked with a grin.

“Yes.”

“Bye, Regina.”

“Goodbye, Granny.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Regina smiled, knowing that was meant to be a hint.

“Yes, Granny. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emma happily made her way down the hall with Regina, munching on her Doritos as she tried to juggle her lunch in her other hand.

“So, you and Granny seem close,” she said, by way of conversation.

“Hmm.”

“Are you?”

“She’s a lovely woman.”

“That’s pretty vague. I asked those questions as an opener for you to tell me more about your relationship with her. I didn’t know you guys were close.”

“We aren’t.”

“Um, were you just there? She was stoked to see you. You know, like someone who hasn’t seen a friend in a _long_ time. She got all smiley. She’s never smiled at me like that before. And she gave you a hug. More importantly, you _let_ her hug you. And what’s with the nickname? Peep? It’s cute. And you’re going back to see her tomorrow. I don’t know. Body language and stuff tells me you’re close. Or at least you used to be. Close enough for her to give you a nickname.”

Emma pushed open the door to Regina’s classroom, letting the woman pass before shutting it behind her. When Regina went to her desk and sat down, grabbing her forgotten wrap and not answering. Unperturbed, Emma asked again.

“It’s not your business, Miss Swan.”

“Emma. Tell me one thing about you and Granny and I’ll let it drop, okay? Just one thing.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to get to know you and you never open up to me without a fight. That’s the first time I see you actually be… I don’t know, normal with someone who isn’t Henry. So I wanna know more about your relationship with her.”

Regina looked at her carefully before looking back down at her wrap, taking a bite and chewing it slowly. She swallowed, weighing her thoughts carefully before finally speaking.

“Just one thing,” Emma repeated.

Regina sighed.

“Fine,” she said slowly, staying quiet for a moment before she spoke softly. She looked at her nails while she spoke, glanced at the walls, stared at her desk. Anything to pretend she wasn’t actually opening up for the first time in a very, _very_ long time. “She gave me a gift, one which turned out to be the very best and the absolute worst thing in my life. I both loved and hated her for it.”

Emma frowned. How could something be both the best and worst thing in your life? Knowing she had to tread carefully for Regina was very clearly someone who was easily spooked back into her shell, Emma decided to disregard that question and carefully asked another.

“What was it?”

Regina glanced at Miss Swan before looking away again.

“Unconditional love.”

The bell rang a second later, startling both women as it shattered the silence that had fallen between them.

“Well, that will be all for today. I’ll ask you to leave now. The children will be coming in momentarily.”

The mask was back up, Emma knew, but she understood that Regina was probably feeling really exposed right now, so she didn’t bring attention to it. She hadn’t expected the other woman to divulge something so personal. Honestly, she figured Regina was going to say that she got the nickname because she sang a lot or that Granny was her old babysitter or something. So when Regina retreated and asked Emma to leave, she immediately obeyed. She grabbed her snacks and her chocolate milk, pausing at the door before looking back at the brunette behind the desk.

“Thank you for telling me that. See you again soon.”

Regina watched Miss Swan leave, biting her lower lip as soon as she was alone again. She shouldn’t have said that. She should not have divulged that information. It had just… it had tumbled out of her mouth without her permission. She should have made something up. She should have said something trivial. She most definitely should not have admitted that until Granny had come into her life at the tender age of six, Regina had never known love without strings, without conditions. Her father loved her, _but_. She had to listen to her mother. She had to do well in school so as not to make her angry. They couldn’t show affection if her mother was in the house. There couldn’t be a hug or an ‘I love you’ if Cora were around. Such limitations never existed with Granny. And as much as she feared she would eventually pay for being honest, it had also, kinda just felt really _good_ to open up for once. It was a one off and she wouldn’t do it again, but it had been nice to be honest about what Granny meant to her, because she meant so much to Regina. She had made her childhood bearable, giving her moments of shelter and security, moments where Regina had felt truly _safe._

Young Regina could run into Granny’s arms at any time of the day and be sure that she would be met with a smile and a strong squeeze. She could giggle and sing and speak as loudly and as much as she liked without fear of being reprimanded or being sent into any closets. When Granny had a surprise for her, it was never one that was followed by physical pain or tears. There was never a sinister grin on the older woman’s face, causing young Regina’s stomach to clench with fear or her eyes to fill with tears. Surprises from Granny meant a chocolate, a cookie, or a small toy for Regina to play with. It meant an extra large slice of cake at lunch or a piece of gum after school. And if Regina happened to swallow the gum or drop the cake, there was no dread that caused her to shake with terror. There was just a kind “oops” and another piece to replace what had been lost. Granny never hid her drawings beneath books or kept them behind doors so that they wouldn’t be found. She displayed them proudly on the walls in the school kitchen or on her fridge at home (though Regina had only been told of this, for she had never actually been to Granny’s home).

No, there had never been any conditions to her relationship with Granny, only love and genuine happiness. And although Regina adored her father, the man who had made living with her mother less of a living hell, their relationship and their affection for one another had always been dictated by her mother. A hug from Granny was not dependent on someone’s absence like it was with her father. A genuine smile was not withheld for fear of a certain person’s reaction. Daddy loved her paintings and her presents, always giving her a big smile and a hug for them (when mother wasn’t around of course). But after the gift was given, after the “I love it, princess” came the “but” and the warning to keep quiet and not tell mother. Afterwards, there was always hiding and secrets. There was never a drawing hung in daddy’s study or a present proudly displayed on his desk. And although he had never meant to make her feel that way, Regina had always felt like their exchanges were a dirty secret. She didn’t blame her father. The blame rested solely with her mother, where it belonged, but it had been nice as a child not to have to tiptoe with Granny like she had to with daddy.

Regina swallowed back the knot in her throat as she thought about just how long it had been since she’s allowed herself to think of her past, standing up and tossing the rest of her lunch into the trash. She made her way to the sink in her classroom, washing her hands and holding her fingers beneath the cool water until she felt calmer. She then turned off the tap, drying her hands just in time for the children to come racing inside.

“¡Hola niños! ¡Cómo me alegre verles” Regina said happily, her heart lifting as their tiny faces smiled up at her.

There had been times in her life that had been incredibly difficult, moments filled with such darkness that they  haunted her to this day, but it was moments like this, where fifteen bright, smiling faces all vying for her attention shone over the darker times and brought light back into her life.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am. I'm loving developing these two characters.
> 
> Merry Christmas to all of you! Thank you so much for reading :)

The next day flew by in a flurry of Spanish songs and games for Regina, teaching the children both how to dress warmly in the winter as well as the names for each article of clothing through play. She spent the day laughing with the children, feeling incredibly carefree and happy, surrounded by the children’s excitement for the coming holiday. This would be the second year that Henry didn’t believe in Santa, the magic ripped away from him two years ago by some of the older kids at school. So it was nice for Regina to be surrounded by little faces who still believed, hypothesising about what Santa might bring them for Christmas. It invigorated her, helped her get into the Christmas spirit and forget about the heavy memories from earlier in the week.

Regina had the passing thought that Miss Swan may just join her for lunch that Wednesday, keeping her feet on the floor just in case her colleague dared to barge in on her alone time like she had the day before. It was highly irregular for someone to disrupt her peace and quiet, and Regina was quite unused to being disturbed. Regina prepared herself just in case, sitting up and ensuring the things on her desk were perfectly in order, yesterday’s novel replaced with Steinbeck’s _Of Mice and Men._

She sat and read quietly, feigning interest in her reading material. As the lunch break progressed with no outburst, Regina became more and more sure that yesterday’s anomaly in her routine would not reoccur today. Hopefully. Yes, she did hope it did not happen again because she valued her privacy and her quiet time. So when thirty minutes of her lunch break had passed and she was still alone in her room, Regina nodded to herself and settled back in her chair. She was glad to be alone. And if her eyes kept glancing up at the door, it was to check to ensure it was, indeed, still closed and not because anyone _hoped_ someone might come barrelling through it.

On Thursday, Regina sat in her room as usual, eating her lunch and definitely _not_ glancing up at her door every few minutes. No one invaded her space on that day either, and on Friday, Regina had come to the _happy_ conclusion twenty minutes into her lunch that Tuesday’s invasion had been a one off and she would no longer be disturbed. She was happy. _Happy_. She was happy that her routine wasn’t disrupted like it had been, so that she could go back to read on about Paula who was desperately trying to rid herself of her crush on her best friend Lydia instead of pretending to be interested in reading the classic she’d been forcing herself to read for the past two days.

Regina pulled out her hidden novel, tugging on her bookmark as she opened the book to the saved page. Her eyes scanned the words, going back to the last paragraph she had read. She continued on, reading about Paula’s inner emotional turmoil, trying desperately to get back into the story. She was having trouble keeping her attention fixed on the story, though. The fact that she kept reading over the same paragraph and retaining nothing was most definitely not due to the fact that she was trying to rebuke reasons she should be heading to the teacher’s lounge. She did not need a coke. She had a spoon in her drawer, and besides, she had nothing in her lunch that required a spoon. There was nothing she needed to discuss with Miss Swan and therefore _stop telling me I should go see her_. Regina grew irritated with her own mind, frowning heavily as she chewed on her lower lip.

“So, Granny’s pissed you’re avoiding her again.”

Regina gasped loudly, slamming her book shut and immediately glancing up at the blonde who had come in unannounced.

“Miss Swan-”

“Emma. And she’s pissed. She practically ripped my head off like I’m the reason you didn’t go see her like you promised you would. I was on a field trip with my history class for two days but somehow I was supposed to be babysitting you and bringing you to the caf anyway. Like you’re not an adult who chose not to keep her promise. Let’s go, Peep. I’m starving and she’s holding my lunch hostage because _I don’t feed liars_ even though technically you’re the liar for not going.”

“I fail to see how this is my problem,” Regina said, forcing irritation in her voice like she hadn’t just been thinking about how much she missed Emma. Miss Swan. No. She liked her solitude. She had missed nothing. “And don’t call me Peep.”

“You’ll see how it’s your problem when I show up to your house tonight starving cause I didn’t eat lunch,” Emma said, marching over to Regina and grabbing her wrist. She glanced down at the abandoned book she spotted resting on the desk, taking the opportunity to read the title now that it was out in the open. “ _Forbidden Pleasures_. Nice title for a porn.”

“It’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah. We can discuss what it’s not after Emma gets food,” she said, practically dragging Regina back to the cafeteria. “So, how was your trip, Emma? Oh, it was awesome. Thanks for asking, Regina. Did you see anything nice? Well funny you should ask, Regina. We went to Midland so the kids could see up close how Native Americans used to live until we came in and pillaged their land. It was a great learning opportunity though and I had a lot of fun with the kids. You’re so sweet for asking.”

Regina rolled her eyes, not the least bit amused by Miss Swan’s voice changes as she pretended to imitate her. She was only following her because she had promised Granny she would return, a bubble of guilt rising in her belly. She hadn’t gone because, quite frankly, she was intimated. She hadn’t stepped foot in that cafeteria in _years_ , excluding Tuesday. It felt awkward to go, given how long it had been, and knowing that there would be so many teachers in there who she knew didn’t like her. And she them.

“Granny!” Emma announced, as she pulled Regina into the kitchen, away from the students and all the noise. “I brought the goods now make with the lunch.”

Granny came out from the pantry, eyes fierce as she approached Regina, one finger in the air.

“You promised me you would come and visit,” she started, ignoring Emma as she faced Regina. “You don’t need your friend to drag you here to come and see me. Am I that awful that the only way I can get you in here is to force you?”

“No, I-”

“Now, I’ve let you have your time. I didn’t speak up when you stopped coming regularly because the principal started spending her lunches in here. I figured you’d eventually get over it to see me. But the more she came in here, the less you did. First it was only once a week you’d come. Then every two weeks. Before I knew it, I’d go weeks and then months without seeing you. Now I think it’s been what? Four years since you’ve been here last? We work in the same school and it’s been almost two years since I’ve properly seen you. And it would be longer if it weren’t for that day we both happened to be in the faculty lunch room at the same time. I told you I won’t force you to come see me. I shouldn’t be a chore, having to beg you to come. But, girl, I helped raise you like you were mine and damn if it doesn’t hurt that you don’t come around anymore. I’ve stayed quiet for too long. I’m not getting any younger and neither are you.” Granny took a step back as she nodded. “There. I’ve said what I’ve been wanting to say to you for forever now. I got it off my chest and you can decide what you want to do with that information.”

Regina blinked back tears as she listened to the other woman’s words, her heart clenching as she saw Granny blink away her own tears. The older woman turned away, heading back to the pantry she’d been in earlier. Regina looked to Miss Swan, who shook her head and immediately pointed in the direction Granny had gone.

“Don’t look at me. You need to apologise,” she whispered.

Regina sighed, knowing it was the truth. Granny was right. She had been avoiding her for far too long. She had been a coward for far too long. Regina quickly made her way over to the other woman, turning her around and wrapping her in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked into her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve missed you, Peep. A hell of a lot.”

Regina nodded, unable to speak for the knot in her throat.

“You stay holed up in the room of yours way too much. I know there’s been a lot of… a lot of history between you and the other teachers in this school. It’s what happens in small towns. People know too much about each other’s business. But it was a long time ago and you gotta move on. Don’t let them dictate where you do and don’t go, Regina. You’ve spent too many years being bullied by one dictator to let yourself be controlled by others.”

“I don’t,” Regina insisted, when she found her voice. “It’s me who chooses to stay in my classroom.”

“Oh? Is that right? So if I said go eat in the lunch room with Emma tomorrow, you would? Nothing and no one would stop you?”

When Regina stayed quiet, Granny patted her back.

“It’s an illusion, Regina. You claim to have control but the reality is you’re letting others control _you_. Mary Margaret- see? You tense just hearing her name- starts coming in here and you stop. She goes in the lunch room, Ruby goes in there, Belle, and you won’t even consider entering the space they’re in. You’re letting others dictate your actions. You have for far too long, Peep. It’s time to take control again and stop letting others influence what you do with your life.”

“It’s hard.”

“You’re damn right it’s hard. It’s hard to be brave and to face people. It’s a hell of a lot easier to just hide away in a classroom and be angry with the world. It’s easier to blame everyone else. It’s not easier to let people in, but you need to learn.”

“I don’t know how. I don’t even know if- if I want to.”

“You should, Peep,” Granny responded, stroking Regina’s back. “You’ve been alone for far too long. There are people who care about you and who want to help you, who love and miss you and wish you’d come around more. This needs to stop, Regina. You can’t keep pushing us all away.”

“I’ve missed you,” Regina finally admitted.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Regina sniffled, feeling far too much like she was in a therapist’s office rather than a primary school cafeteria. She pulled away, looking sheepishly at Granny as she wiped her tears.

“Why do you always make me do this?”

“Do what?”

“Open up.”

“Because I’m not afraid of you and I care about you, like that little blonde thing still waiting for you in my kitchen.”

“How do you know she’s waiting?” They couldn’t see anything besides shelves of food from where they were hidden in the pantry.

“Because she likes you.”

Regina frowned.

“She’s a good person, Regina. And she’s not unlike you.”

“Her?” Regina asked, incredulous. “She’s nothing like me.”

“You think her bubbly outside isn’t hiding something dark inside? Look into her eyes, Regina. Look deep, beyond what’s on the surface. If you look like I did, you’ll see those eyes are haunted, just like yours. Your defense mechanism is to be mean to keep others from finding out what you’re keeping secret. She uses humour and deflects any personal questions to keep herself safe. I know, Regina. I’ve been around enough at my age to see things you can’t. She’s a good person and she wants to be your friend. Let her. Lord knows you can use a friend and maybe she can use one too. You’re a loving person, Regina, when you let yourself love. And you’re protective and you’re loyal, and I think that is just what our friend out there needs.”

The bang rang loudly, interrupting their conversation.

“Damn bell, always ringing at the most inconvenient times. Think about what I said. She’s lonely and so are you. And so help me God, if you do not come into my kitchen next week to say hi, I will beat you senseless.”

Regina let out a small laugh, nodding.

“Okay, Granny. I promise I’ll come.”

“Bring Emma.”

“Yes, I’ll bring Mi-” Regina paused, correcting herself with a small smile. “I’ll bring Emma.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

The following Monday, Regina’s stomach clenched with anxiety at the thought of returning to the cafeteria. She wanted to see Granny. Now that she’d finally gone to see the woman, she couldn’t stop thinking of her, had dreamt of her all weekend, and was looking forward to seeing her for lunch. But she was dreading going into that caf alone. She kept glancing up at the clock, waiting for Miss Swan to barge into her room, but ten minutes into her lunch period had yielded negative results.

Sighing and resigning herself to the fact that she was going to have to ‘face the music’ on her own, Regina stood and straightened her clothes before heading to the cafeteria. She found Granny in the kitchen, as usual, the woman’s lips parting in a wide grin when she spotted her.

“There’s my girl! I hoped you wouldn’t disappoint me today,” she said happily, giving Regina soft kiss on the cheek. “I made you something special.”

“Hello, Granny. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. Here. Churros y chocolate for you and Emma. I know it’s your favourite treat. Or it used to be, all those years ago. And a few slices of eggplant parmesan for you girls as well. The two tastes don’t really mix, but the eggplant is what the kids are getting today and I figured I’d save you two a couple of pieces.”

Regina grabbed the container with the eggplant, placing it beneath the plate which held the mugs of chocolate and the churros. She accepted the wad of napkins from Granny, smiling widely and thanking her for the special treat.

“But I haven’t see Emma…”

“She’ll be in her classroom. It’s Monday; she teaches PE was right before lunch on Mondays. She didn’t come in here all sweaty and looking for lunch, which means she’s probably worn herself out and has some of prepackaged snack she’s eating instead of coming to get something good. Bring her this and tell her she owes me a hug later.”

Regina paused for a second before finally nodding.

“Alright.”

“Well, go on, girl. Before the food gets cold. I’ll see you tomorrow for pierogi day.”

Regina grinned.

“Yes you will.”

She carefully carried the container and the plate in her hands, ignoring the looks from the other teachers as she made her way down the hall to Emma’s classroom. She didn’t bother knocking, just pushing the slightly-ajar door open and then pushing it closed with her foot.

“Regina,” Emma said, surprised, jumping up and grabbing the plate the woman was balancing in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Granny insisted I bring you something to eat. She stated that you’d likely be eating something unhealthy and after doing exercise, you should be eating something more filling than,” Regina glanced over at the packet of Oreos sitting on her colleague’s desk, “cookies. Is that all you’re going to be eating for lunch?”

Emma shrugged, walking back to her desk and pulling up a second chair for Regina, who thanked her as she sat and opened the container in her hands.

“They’re quick and easy.”

“And what would your mother have to say about eating cookies for lunch?”

When she didn’t receive a response, Regina glanced up from the piece of eggplant she was putting on a napkin for Emma, watching the woman as she struggled with an impassive expression. She received a shrug, Emma plopping down in her chair as she licked her finger clean of the chocolate that had sloshed over on the plate and onto her hand.

“I don’t know. Dunno who she is. But if you find out, you can ask her.”

Regina frowned before smoothing out her expression, moving to put her own piece of eggplant on a napkin.

“You don’t know who your mother is?” she asked casually. Or what she hoped was casually.

“No clue.”

“And your father?” Regina asked carefully.

Emma shrugged again.

“I don’t have parents. So I can pretty much eat what I want and nobody cares. Your kid wasn’t lying when he said I have no family.”

The way she said it, with such impassivity, tugged at Regina’s heart.

“Not no one,” Regina countered, pushing the eggplant over to her colleague. “Granny was quite adamant that you eat this.”

Emma smiled.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good to me.”

Regina took a delicate bite of her own eggplant parmesan, stifling a moan at the delicious flavours that burst on her tongue. God, Granny was a good cook. She looked up at Emma, who was eating quietly, her face betraying none of what she was feeling. She was currently looking down at her meal, picking at it rather than inhaling it like Regina had seen her every other time she ate. When several minutes passed between them without conversation, Regina spoke again.

“Does this line of questioning upset you? I didn’t mean to bring up old wounds.”

Emma lifted a shoulder, letting it drop heavily as she took another bite of the admittedly tasty eggplant.

“Eh, not my favourite topic of conversation. But, you were honest the other day with me, so I’ll return the favour.”

“You don’t have to speak about it, Emma. I chose to be honest with you, despite the fact that it felt rather… uncomfortable. You have no obligations to do the same.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re gonna go blab to all your friends here at the school, right?” Emma winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “Sorry. Foot in mouth.”

Luckily, Regina laughed rather than became offended.

“No. There’s no worries about that. I don’t have any friends here. But, even if I did, I wouldn’t. I know what it’s like to be spoken about, for people to talk behind my back. It isn’t enjoyable, being the source of gossip. I wouldn’t do that to someone who is… trying to be friendly with me.”

Emma smiled finally, looking up at her.

“Noticed, did you?”

“That you’re trying to be my friend? I’ve no idea why.”

“Everyone needs a friend.”

Regina took another bite of her eggplant, chewing slowly before finally admitting, “It’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember how to be a friend.”

“Well, I’m not the best at it either. Didn’t really have friends growing up,” Emma admitted, before slowly opening up. “Nobody wants to be friends with the kid who has no parents, whose clothes is too big and is obviously from Goodwill, and who never has any of the stuff that’s ‘in’ cause she’s too poor.” Emma glanced down for a second, reaching for a churro and dipping it in chocolate before taking a healthy bite. She then looked back up at Regina, chewing methodically before continuing. “People don’t become foster parents ‘cause they want to raise other people’s kids. They do it for the money, which isn’t all that much – or so I was told my whole life. Not really sure why they did it then if it wasn’t ‘worth the trouble’.” 

Regina frowned heavily, at a loss of what to say. She was saved from responding though, when Emma looked at her and insisted, “He’s a really lucky kid, Regina, that you adopted him. Maybe you made some mistakes and stuff, but him being adopted by you is a billion times better than growing up how I did. And maybe how you did too. I had some foster moms that were like your mom. They’re the scary ones. They act all nice in front of others and get praised for taking care of ‘those poor little orphans’. But then you get home and are at the other end of a metal rod for an hour because you didn’t remember to thank the host when they handed you a napkin.”

Regina’s eyes widened when Emma spoke, the blonde back peddling as soon as she saw the look on the other woman’s face.

“Sorry. Not saying that like happened or anything. Just that, y’know, those types of people exist and-”

“No,” Regina said, cutting her off. She knew what Emma was trying to do, what Regina did whenever she made the mistake of opening up to someone who became overwhelmed or uncomfortable hearing what her mother had put her through. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to show my shock quite so blatantly. Normally, I have better control of my expressions. I’m sure that it did happen, and that it happened to you, at the hands of the type of woman you described. And… yes. My mother is the type of woman who will lock a child who is terrified of the dark in a closet for hours because she hit the wrong key during a piano recital and embarrassed her _in front of everyone_. And when that child wets herself because she was both afraid and denied a bathroom, well. There are consequences for that too.”

Emma, not having expected the admission, bit her tongue.

“I knew I should have decked her right in her stupid face as soon as I saw her.”

Regina gave a small smile, picking at her nail.

“She played a lot of mind games,” Regina admitted, “which is why Henry and I don’t see her very often.”

“I don’t think you should ever see her. I mean, I had some pretty fucked up foster parents, but at least I don’t ever have to see them again.”

Regina’s expression contorted into one of displeasure, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know how you pry these things out of me.” Granny, well. She was Granny. She could get anything out of Regina. But Miss Swan? The woman she had just met a few months ago? Surely Regina’s resolve was better than that.

Emma just shrugged.

“Maybe because you know I can relate? Or because I opened up to you and trusted you, so you’re actually trying to do the same? Or maybe cause you’ve already thrown your mean stuff at me and I stuck around, still wanted to be your friend, and still chose to open up to you, so you’re taking a vote of confidence?”

Regina didn’t say anything, uncomfortable with how close Emma’s guesses were to the truth.

“Or maybe I’m just attractive as all hell and this is your way of getting into my pants.”

Regina laughed loudly at that, lightening the heaviness in the room with the sound.

“You know, be all dark and mysterious, then open up a little, then next thing you know, bam. I’m naked and tied up in your bed.”

“Is that all it takes?” Regina teased.

“Nah,” Emma said, getting up and throwing her napkins in the garbage and gathering her dishes to return them to Granny. “You’re pretty much exactly my type. All you’d have had to do was ask.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double chapter update for today! this is one of two.

The following day, Emma spent much of her morning glancing at the clock, eager for the time to hurry up so she could find her new friend at lunch time. Her new friend. Her new friend, who used to be her enemy, who before that was her “ghost”, the woman she’d see floating around the hallways once in a while, Emma never really sure if she’d actually seen the woman or if she'd just imagined her. Because any time Emma tried to take a second glance, or get a better look, the woman would disappear- seemingly into thin air (not into thin air, probably into a bathroom or into a classroom or around a corner, but it felt like into thin air). And then Emma had finally met her, had put a name to her (incredibly beautiful) face, and then made an enemy out of her. But then they’d made a truce, and then a quasi-friendship, and Emma was grateful that that particular feud was over. Because she liked Regina, liked her fire and her protectiveness and her carefully hidden sense of humour. She enjoyed her company. And after yesterday, after they’d opened up to one another, after Emma had flirted with her (and saw what she was pretty sure was a blush on Regina’s face), she was _intrigued_. And she was eager to spend more time with the woman who was slowly invading her thoughts.

Emma chewed on her pen, leg bouncing as she glanced back at the clock. Still another fifteen minutes before the lunch bell rang. _Fuck it_. She couldn’t wait any longer. She knew Regina would be teaching, wouldn’t be on her spare like Emma was, but she was tired of staring at the clock every few seconds. And, truth be told, she was eager to just _see_ her colleague, to watch her around the kids. The last time she’d gone into her classroom when there were students around, Regina just looked so soft, so unguarded. It was like her mask had melted away before her students’ tiny faces, and Emma _liked_ the look of Regina without it. She didn’t think too much about what that meant though, instead concentrating on making her way down the halls until she found herself in the SI wing.

Emma glanced up at the signs until she found the familiar _educación infantíl_ one, once again thinking that she seriously needed to learn this language. Maybe she could bring it up to Regina today. Perhaps the woman would be open to teaching her. Would she want to teach Emma though? It would probably be a lot of work. But maybe she’d like that Emma was interested in her language, in her culture, and wouldn’t mind if it took a little effort. Emma certainly didn’t mind putting the effort  into learning, especially if it meant she’d be spending more time with her colleague. Not that Regina was the sole reason Emma wanted to learn Spanish, but if it meant spending more time with the beautiful brunette…

Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of children’s voice drifting from the classroom. She took a step forward and peeked into the room, smiling at the scene before her. There was Regina on her knees, holding up a book in one hand, the other gesticulating dramatically as she read. She was facing on an angle away from the door, so Emma was fairly confident she could duck in without being noticed. She listened to the kids repeat after their teacher, slipping into the room and staying out of Regina’s eye line as she leaned up against the wall by the door to listen.

“Maestra, maestra, ¿qué ve ahí?”

Emma watched then as Regina brought her hand to her eyebrows, pretending to be searching for something. Suddenly, the woman sat up straighter, the children laughing (she must have made a silly face, one that Emma couldn’t see at this angle) as she then read from the book.

“Veo a los niños que me miran a mí.” Regina flipped the page. “Niños, niños, ¿qué ven ahí?”

Before Regina could turn the page, she heard various calls of “una señora!” and “a teacher!” and then “miss Swan!”. Kylie, the one who had shouted their guest’s name when she finally noticed her, scrambled up and threw herself at Emma’s legs. Regina looked over, stunned and a little embarrassed (she hadn’t seen the other woman come in, which, now that she thought of it, was not good. She’d have to take better care to watch the door lest someone dangerous come through it), but nevertheless, she smiled at the way the blonde grinned down at the little pig-tailed girl.

“Hey, squirt. Whatchya reading?”

Kylie tugged at her hand, leading her over to the alphabet carpet and pulling her down so that they were both sitting.

“We’re reading _Oso pardo_.”

“Are we?” Emma asked, looking over at Regina with a grin. “Well, let’s keep reading.”

Regina cleared her throat, glancing at the clock.

“We’re nearly finished. Vamos a terminar de leer y luego, ¡a comer!”

The kids let out a shout of glee at whatever Regina said, the woman tucking her hair behind her ear nervously at the thought of being watched by an adult. Regina never felt self-conscious at the idea of making a fool of herself for the benefit of ‘her’ kids, but the idea of having her colleague watch her made her nervous. She resolved to focus on the students, however, looking only at them and not at the piercing green eyes watching her with an amused smile. She flipped back to the previous page, reading with slightly less enthusiasm than before (no matter how she tried to ignore her, Regina couldn’t quite convince herself there was no other adult in the room).

“Niños, niños, ¿qué ven ahí?” She flipped the page. “Repitan: Vemos… un oso pardo.” She waited, the children repeated. “Un pájaro rojo.”

Emma watched as Regina continued reading, hearing the slight lilt in her voice as she did. She could see the woman struggling to keep from glancing back at her, so Emma decided to join in to make her less nervous (she hoped) by repeating along with the kids. Regina caught her eye when she heard her speak, the women sharing a grin and a slight laugh at Emma’s admittedly terrible pronunciation. Emma’s stomach clenched with happiness when Regina continued reading with a grin and with shoulders that had obviously lost their tension, finding some of her earlier enthusiasm as she finished up the book. She then announced something Emma did not understand, but the children quickly got up and ran to their cubbies. They began pulling on their coats, some struggling to get their second arm in once it was half on.

Emma watched for a second as Regina began helping the students, zipping up coats and tying up shoes and putting on hats. After watching one particularly stubborn little boy try to put on his own jacket (and failing miserably), Emma pushed off the wall she’d been leaning against and made her way over to him. She crouched down to his level, looking into his eyes when he stilled.

“Hey, buddy. What’s your name?”

“Emilio.”

“Hi, Emilio. I’m Miss Swan. I teach the bigger kids in the English part of the school. I can see you're struggling with your jacket. Do you need some help?”

He quickly shook his head.

“I can do it.”

“I’m sure you can. But can I teach you a trick so you can do it by yourself all the time? It’s really easy and all the big kids in my class do it.”

He hesitated, but Emma could tell he was listening.

“It’s a trick only big kids use though. I mean, if you’re not big enough-”

“I’m big!”

“Alright then. Pass me your coat for a minute. I’m not gonna help you though. You’ll do it by yourself because you’re a big boy.”

He acquiesced, handing her his coat. Regina watched from a distance as she helped Amber put on her mittens, observing Emma as she laid out Emilio’s coat on the floor and guided his hands into the arm holes. Emilio was one of Regina’s more stubborn students, refusing any and all help because he was “not a baby.” She had tried more than once to teach him to put on his jacket, but he steadfastly refused. She was intrigued to see if Emma would find a way to get around the boy’s stubbornness.

“Now, hold on tight and put it on like this,” Emma said, pulling her hands up and over her head, pretending as though she were guiding a coat over her head. “And then slip your arms in the sleeves.”

Emilio did as he was shown, his face breaking into a wide grin as the coat slid on.

“I did it!”

“You did do it. Good job, buddy!”

Emma held out her hand, the boy high fiving it immediately. He then ran over to his teacher, eyes wide with pride and happiness.

“¡Lo he hecho! ¡Lo he hecho!”

“Muy bien cariño. ¿Le has dicho gracias a la señora Swan?”

Emilio then ran back, ripping off his jacket and putting it on the floor, and demonstrating his new skill once again.

“I did it again!”

Emma laughed loudly.

“You did do it again. Well done!”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, buddy. Show your friends so that you can all do that trick and maybe save Miss Mills some time,” Emma said, glancing over at the woman in question (who was doing up another student’s boots).

The bell rang, the children running to the door and lining up. Ruby appeared a second later, checking over hats and coats and mitts, helping with backpacks and lunch pails before counting and ensuring she had the right number of children. She then noticed the blonde in the room, eyebrow raising in question. Ruby gave Emma a look, one that pointedly said _I have questions_ , but didn’t say anything. They weren’t alone, after all. She simply greeted the two women before turning to the children, leading them out of the classroom.

When they were alone, Emma dropped onto the floor and huffed.

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t do anything. I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re old. I am not.” Regina teased, getting up and picking up the book she’d read to the children.

Emma laughed, getting up and following her colleague.

“Rude.”

“So am I to assume you came here for a reason or just to pilfer a free story?”

Emma shrugged.

“Just came to say hi. See if you wanted to grab lunch. Not that the story wasn’t good, even though I didn’t understand any of it.”

“Well, perhaps you should learn.” Regina responded playfully. “If a child can learn, surely you can as well.”

“Yeah, I should,” Emma said seriously. “I want to learn.”

“Mhmm. As do so many others.” _And yet they never do_.

This was a no small source of contention for Regina. She so often heard about the Spanish language that “Oh, it’s a beautiful language” or “you’re so lucky to speak it” or “I’d love to learn” but there ended the conversation. Rarely did she actually meet an English speaker who actually learnt _her_ language the way she had learnt theirs.

Regina didn’t mind speaking English. She was glad to, was vastly more independent than her grandparents had been for it, and she had met many interesting people who did not speak Spanish. She didn’t resent a person for not speaking Spanish, didn’t begrudge the fact that they only spoke English. She wasn’t such an uptight person that she wouldn’t speak the only common language she had with another person. And no, she was not ungrateful for the opportunity and the privilege to have learnt another language, but it was irritating that she was always _expected_ to speak English. And those comments, “Oh it’s so beautiful” or “I would love to learn”, they irked her. But she supposed it was better than the snide comments or the disgusted looks she would get from some people when she spoke Spanish with her son. Like she had no right to speak her preferred language, like she had no business speaking _that_ language _here._ Those reactions bothered her, they made her angry, because they reminded her too much of her childhood.

Regina had grown up in a white neighbourhood but she had always preferred to cross the tracks to the poorer, Hispanic area where mothers greeted her pleasantly and children didn’t care where you came from, only if you spoke Spanish and could play a good game of canicas. In the white neighbourhood, parents eyed her darker skin with disdain, wondering what she was doing in _their_ neighbourhood. They never made her feel welcome, even though she was technically _also_ white, rejecting her heritage, her language, and expecting her to only speak _their_ language without making any effort to learn hers. Her mother was the worst of them all, forbidding any Spanish to be spoken in _her_ house, making derogatory comments about Regina’s dark skin or dark, curly hair. She'd been made to feel like being of Latin American decent were something to be ashamed of, but it was hard to feel ashamed of her culture when it was her daddy’s culture. Her daddy, who loved her, cared for her, taught her his language in secret, brought her to fun festivals and enriched her life with the beautiful culture that was _theirs._ Regina was proud of who she was, even though sometimes those comments still came back to haunt her.

And so the comments Regina had received all her life, well-meaning but irritating comments that insinuated that it was impossible to learn to speak her language or downright rude and ignorant ones that boldly stated that her language was somehow lesser-than, to this day annoyed her. So Regina stuck to children, who were free of any prejudices, who were eager to learn and happy to listen and who were proud of themselves for each and every new word they learnt. 

Emma reached out when she felt the rolling waves of annoyance coming off of Regina. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Concerned she’d come off as sounding like she was being insincere, Emma grabbed Regina’s arm and looked her in the eye.

“Hey. I’m being serious, Regina. I was gonna ask you today. I’ve been thinking about learning ever since I found out this place was bilingual. I figured I’d eventually make friends with one of the Spanish teachers and maybe she’d wanna teach my ignorant ass.”

Regina smirked, her irritation (annoyingly) replaced with amusement at Emma’s self-deprecating comment.

“See? You laugh ‘cause you know it’s true. I did take two years of Spanish in high school so this white girl isn’t _totally_ ignorant. But, I liked the class, I liked the language, and I don’t know. Seems like a waste not to learn it. There’s a whole other world that I kinda have a glimpse into but it’d be nice to actually understand it. Plus, I’d know what you say to these kids too. And maybe with enough time, I’ll finally understand all those songs on the radio that are like half Spanish, a quarter English, and a quarter sounding like it was sung by Bob Dylan.”

Regina laughed then, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not just saying it either,” Emma insisted. “I mean it. I’d like to learn. I went to Barnes and Nobles to pick out a book to like, start learning on my own, but there were so many to choose from that I didn’t know which one to get. So I figured that would be something else I’d ask… for a recommendation. Or maybe you could come with me.” Emma glanced at the clock. “We still have half an hour. Plenty of time to stop and grab a book and then a sandwich from Panera.”

“Granny will murder us if we go to Panera and not to the cafeteria.”

“Live on the wild side, come on!”

Regina gave her a look.

“Fine,” Emma relented. “We’ll stop and grab dessert from the caf on our way back. And to say hi. How about that?”

Regina looked at her, considering her. Was Emma truly serious about wanting to learn? It was rare that she met someone who wanted to, who would put the effort into learning. But if she were serious, if she were actually willing to learn, Regina was happy to help her.

"Are you serious about wanting to learn?"

"Yes. Teach me your language, Regina. I want to learn."

“Very well. But it was entirely your idea to go to Panera. You'll be the one to explain.”

“Okay. I'm down.”

“Good,” Regina said, making her way to her desk and retrieving her purse. “I’m driving.”

They’d gone to the book store, had leafed through each and every one of the kits that was meant to learn Spanish, and Regina hated each and every one of them. She'd found something she didn’t like in each book on the shelf ( _Fregar? Who uses the word ‘fregar’? It’s ‘lavar’. We are not buying this book_ ) ( _Who would start their first Spanish lesson by teaching the words for various tools? You start with something relatable, like family or household items. Who wrote this damn book?)_.

Emma had spent the entire time grinning at Regina, loving the way she criticised each and every one of the books. Emma enjoyed her fire, loved that she was so opinionated and would call the writers (or publishers) of various books all sorts of names. It was cute – amusing, it was amusing- to watch her go off in Spanish, clearly criticising the author of the book in her hand. Emma had learnt another new word – _coño_ \- which she wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was pretty confident she knew what _idiota_ meant.

So Emma had stood there, flipping through the books and looking at the brightly coloured pictures, staring at the words underneath and trying to pronounce them in her head, listening to Regina sigh and put back book after book. Finally, the brunette had announced that none of these books were adequate and that she’d have to come up with her own lessons. Emma had put her book back with a smile, more than eager for her private classes with the beautiful Latina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS- I learnt Spanish in the years I spent in Spain. I realise in Spain they use "fregar" quite frequently, but my Mexican friend told me that is not a word she had ever heard before. So, adopting her reaction for Regina :P Thanks, Anayeli!
> 
> PPS- Fun fact: Regina's thoughts regarding language are based on some of my own in a bilingual city in Canada. I've lived her experiences and received the same comments she has.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting... chapter 2 of 2 for today. FF is not working right now, so the updates are only happening here for now.

“Are you and my mom friends?”

Emma gasped loudly, dropping the cards she’d been stacking. She frowned, shooting a playful glare at the boy who had caused her house of cards to fall.

“Jesus Christ, kid. Next time announce your presence, will ya? Some of us are working on important stuff here.”

Henry gave her a skeptical look as he made his way over to her desk and leaned over it, looking down at the mess of cards.

“This is not important.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was at like three houses,” Emma argued, beginning to stack her cards again.

“So, are you gonna answer my question?”

“What?”

“Are you and my mom friends?” Henry asked seriously, looking at his teacher.

“Why do you ask, kid?”

Henry continued looking at his English teacher, waiting until she glanced up at him. He met her gaze, holding it, before finally speaking.

“She likes you.”

“Of course she likes me. Who wouldn’t? I like her too. She’s cool shit.”

“Mom wouldn't like you swearing in front of me like that though.”

“There’s lots of things she doesn’t like, cause as cool as she is, she’s also kinda anal. You trying to tell me you’ve never heard the word ‘shit’ before?”

Henry shook his head. Of course he had heard the word before.

“Then you’ll be fine. Why the sudden questions, kid? Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

It was Friday afternoon. Emma and Regina had spent every lunch period this week, including today, eating together. Her first private Spanish lesson had been today, and Emma had felt great about it- had thoroughly enjoyed Regina’s encouraging words and radiant smile as Emma had repeated after her, the lunch hour going by faster than it ever had. But Emma wasn’t expecting to see either Mills again today, not after Henry’s 10am English class and lunch with Regina at noon. She suddenly secretly hoped that if Henry stuck around long enough now, she might see her brunette colleague one more time before going without for two days.

Henry shrugged.

“Mom’s putting up Christmas decorations in her class.”

“And you’re not helping her?”

“I was. But then I remembered I wanted to ask you if you and my mom were friends.”

“Well, I consider us friends. You can stop wondering now and live a carefree life.”

Henry rolled his eyes.

“Why are you so gung ho about this anyway?”

Henry shrugged again.

“Mom’s never really had a friend before. At least not one that makes her smile. And laugh.”

Emma fought her smile as she concentrate on stacking a second house of cards on the first one she had built.

“She laughs?” Emma asked, hoping she sounded casual.

“Yep. I heard her this week when I was supposed to be sleeping. I didn’t know who she was talking to but I looked on Wednesday morning at her phone and saw your name.”

“Henry, you better not be going through your mom’s phone,” Emma said seriously.

“I’m not,” he promised, “I just saw your name. I didn’t read anything. I just wanted to see if it was you who was texting her.”

“Well, yeah. It was me. We’ve been talking at night.”

She and Regina had exchanged phone numbers after Regina had decided to give her lessons, Emma insisting it was important _just in case_. What if she couldn’t make a lesson? What if she had questions at home? So Regina had given her her number. And Emma had begun texting that night, despite the fact that Regina had given Emma her number solely for lesson-related purposes. She’d responded to Emma’s random text though, and it had become a nightly thing. They would text at night, after Henry went down for the night. Emma had been texting her silly images, texting random messages and teasing the woman in an effort to make her smile. It warmed Emma to know she’d been making Regina laugh.

“But no more snooping through your mom’s stuff. She’s an adult and you need to respect her privacy.”

“I know. I wasn't reading anything. I just wanted to make sure it was you.”

“Make sure it was me, huh?” Emma asked, glancing up at him.

“Yeah. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anyone like… playing a prank on her.”

Emma’s hand hovered, taking a slow breath before putting her card down, completing the second house.

“People play pranks on her?”

Henry stayed quiet long enough that Emma looked up at him, watching the way he frowned and fidgeted for a minute.

“Sometimes. People aren’t always nice to her. I gotta protect her. But if it’s you being nice to her, well I guess I don’t have to because I think you’re actually trying to be her friend. You seem like a good person.”

Emma gave him a small smile at the compliment, before frowning slightly at the first part of Henry’s sentence.

“What do people do to your mom?”

Henry gave a half shrug, looking down at his hand as he reached out to fiddle with a card.

“They call her names. They say bad stuff about her. They say stuff that’s not true.” His voice dropped as he admitted, “It hurts her feelings even if she pretends it doesn’t.” He looked up suddenly, catching Miss Swan’s intense gaze. “You’re not trying to trap her and make her trust you and then you’re gonna make fun of her, are you? Cause I’ll-”

“Whoa, whoa, little man. Stop right there before you start making threats against your teacher, yeah? I promise I’m not gonna hurt your mom, okay? Not on purpose anyway. I’m just looking to be her friend. And whatever she tells me, I won’t be making fun of her for it, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise, kid. I’m sorry that other people have hurt her and you’ve had to see her hurt. People suck sometimes. But I’m not gonna do that, okay?”

Henry nodded.

“Okay.”

“Why don’t we go to your mom’s classroom and help her put up her decorations?”

Emma suddenly wanted to see the other woman, Henry’s words bothering her deeply. Emma wanted to see Regina. And she felt this weird… need to just go and make Regina laugh.

“Okay. Do you have a ladder? She was standing on tables putting up garland and she almost fell. She promised she’d stop getting up on the tables but if I’m not there to yell at her, she’s probably gonna do it again.”

“Your mother is nothing if not stubborn,” Emma announced, following Henry out of her classroom and to down the Spanish Immersion wing.

“Yeah. You’re lucky you don’t have to live with her.”

Emma laughed.

“I’m stubborn too. If we lived together, it probably would end with one of us killing the other.”

“My money is on my mom. She’s way scarier than you.”

“You’re probably right. Never mess with an angry Latina woman,” Emma warned him.

“Oh, I know. She’s my mom. I learnt that lesson a long time ago.”

Emma laughed again, pushing open the door to Regina’s classroom.

“Mom! What are you doing!”

Regina gasped in surprise, head whipping sideways at the sound of her son’s voice. Her body shifted, and Regina lost her footing, slipping off the children’s table she’d been standing on. She yelped as she began falling, cursing herself for becoming startled. She squeezed her eyes shut (she didn’t want to see the ground coming at her) but before she could connect with the floor, she suddenly stilled, hovering in mid-air. Regina opened her eyes, looking up at a bemused Emma.

“You were told earlier not to stand on tables, Miss Mills. Am I gonna have to send you to the-” Emma looked up at the red chair where Regina sent the misbehaving children, reading the sign above it, “ring-cone day pen-sar?”

Henry erupted in giggles at his English teacher’s terrible accent, laughing loudly when she told him to “shut up, kid.” Her tone was teasing, a smile evident even as she told him off. He watched, still giggling, as his mother finally righted herself, sweeping her hair behind her ears and taking a step back. She was flustered, embarrassed (he could tell), but she nodded once at Miss Swan and thanked her.

“Maybe I’ll put up the garland from now on and you can yell at me for doing it wrong. Sound like a deal?” Emma asked.

“And maybe mom can work on your pronunciation while you’re doing that.”

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad!” Emma defended, grabbing the bit of garland dangling from the wall and climbing up on a children’s chair.

“It was pretty bad, Miss Swan,” Regina teased, hand hovering at Emma’s lower back lest she fall. “We will need to revisit the pronunciation chart I made you.”

“Well, I’m only as good as my teacher. Maybe _you’re_ the one who has bad pronunciation.”

“Sí, claro,” Regina said drolly. “The native speaker is the problem.”

“Exactly. Glad we cleared that up. Tape?” Emma asked, holding out her hand.

Regina reached over and handed the woman the tape, glancing over at her son who was now sitting at her desk, doing his homework. He suddenly looked up at her, like he’d known she was staring at him, smiling.

“Oh, mom?”

“Yes, mijo.”

“Are we still going to see the Christmas train tonight?”

“Yes, if you finish your homework.”

“Can Miss Swan come with us? Since she’s your friend?”

Regina raised an eyebrow, looking up at the woman in question.

“My friend? Since when are we friends?”

Emma passed the tape back, hopping down from her chair and sliding it over before climbing back up on it.

“Since the day you invited me for ice cream after our PD day.”

“Invited? You use the term loosely,” Regina answered, the amusement in her voice evident. She handed up the tape when her colleague asked for it, taking it back while Emma hung up more garland.

“Loose or not, it’s the truth. Now, you like me. Admit it. You even wait for me at lunch.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You’re always doing a good job looking busy when I come around and pick you up on my way to the caf. You’re _waiting_ for me.”

“I am most certainly not waiting for you.”

“On your way?” Henry interrupted, confused. “Mom’s class isn’t on your way to the caf, Emma. It’s like totally out of your way to come here first. It makes more sense for mom to come to you.”

“Your mom won’t admit she likes my company so I have to come wrestle her out of her classroom or else she won’t go. Remember the stubborn thing we were talking about earlier?”

“What stubborn thing?” Regina inquired, looking between her son and her colleague.

Emma hopped down again, moving further along the wall before climbing back on the tiny chair.

“You’re stubborn as a mule, Mills.” When Regina made a move to protest, Emma cut her off. “Oh don’t even try to deny it. You know it’s true. Rather than ask someone taller, like me, to put this stuff up, you climb on unsturdy kids’ tables, even though you already fell once, and try to do it yourself. Stubborn.”

“That’s not called being stubborn. It’s called being independent.”

Emma snorted.

“Ya, whatever, Mills. Gimme the tape.”

“I don’t believe I will.”

“Mills,” Emma growled, teasing.

“Yes?” Regina asked innocently.

“Don’t make me wrestle it out of your hand. We both know I’m stronger than you are.”

Regina scoffed.

“Please.”

Emma jumped down, a predatory grin on her face. Regina laughed as Emma approached, slowly backing away as she held the tape out of reach.

“Apologise and I’ll give you the tape back.”

“Apologise for what? Being honest?” Emma scoffed.

“For being rude.”

“Calling someone stubborn when they’re stubborn isn’t being rude.”

“Apologise.”

“Never!” Emma teased, backing Regina into a corner of the classroom. “Now what’re you gonna do?”

Henry sat at his mother’s desk, watching from afar, amused. He observed the two women before him, the way his mother giggled and backed away, the way Emma laughed and pretended to have trouble grabbing for the tape his mother was holding out of reach (it wasn’t out of reach, Emma could have easily grabbed it). Emma was taller than his mom, and she was stronger. He had seen his teacher lift tables, stacks of chairs, and she admitted to him that she worked out nearly every day before school. So she could have grabbed the tape from his mom way earlier. She was just choosing not to.

Henry sat back in his seat and he smiled at the way his mom laughed, wondering if this is what _flirting_ was. Ruby had told him that the way Mr. Nolan teased Principal Blanchard was called flirting. And his principal’s laughter was a little like his mom’s right now, only his mom’s laugh wasn’t as loud or as high pitched. But still, she was giggling in a way that Henry wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before. He knew friends teased each other, he and Ava teased each other all the time and they were just playing. So was this flirting or just friends playing?

“Ah ha!” Emma announced, triumphantly. “Got it.”

Henry pulled himself from his thoughts and watched the way Emma gave a small victory dance at the tape in her hand.

“I let you get it, Miss Swan.”

“Sure. You tell yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Certainly not the image of your so-called dancing. That is the stuff of nightmares.”

“Oh, baby. I could dance _circles_ around you,” Emma announced, doing a quick loop around Regina before getting back on the chair she had abandoned.

“You think so, do you?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll believe _that_ when I see it.”

And the way his mom was grinning at Emma, biting her lower lip, made Henry nod. Yeah, okay. That was probably flirting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy updates for you. Plot coming around next chapter ;)


	13. Chapter 13

“Henry! Let’s go! Miss Swan is waiting for us already.”

Henry barrelled out of his room, out of breath. He’d been busy talking to Ava about his mom and Miss Swan, trying to get her opinion on if what had happened earlier was, indeed, flirting. She seemed to agree with him that it might be that they were flirting, but she also said it kind of sounded like they were just friends. He’d have to do a little more observing tonight.

“I’m ready!” He announced, throwing on his coat and grabbing a scarf.

“It is December, Henry. Put on your hat and your mittens. And bring your ski pants. You’ll probably want to play in the snow with Ava.”

He did as he was told, looking at his mom when he'd finished gathering his clothes.

“How come you aren’t wearing your gloves?”

“I wear my gloves for driving, but Miss Swan will be driving this evening.”

Before he could protest that it was still going to be cold, his mother shooed him out the door. He instantly spotted the familiar blonde, who was leaning against her car.

“Hey, kid,” she announced, adjusting her beanie. “Ready to see the train?”

He met his teacher halfway up the driveway, surprising her by throwing his arms around her waist. He really liked her, and he was glad that she was accompanying them. Henry always found his friends when the yearly Christmas train passed through Storybrooke (not much happened in this town, so when something did, _everyone_ tended to go), and he had begun to feel guilty leaving his mom when he got old enough to realise she was left alone after he went off. It was nice to know that this year Emma would be with his mom.

“Yep!” he finally said, pulling away and looking back at his mom, who had since locked the door and was making her way over.

“Miss Swan.”

“ _Emma_ ,” Emma corrected, rolling her eyes. “Enough of the Miss Swan.”

Regina grinned, like she knew it bugged the other woman to be called by her last name (she did, of course). 

“Ready?” Regina asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Emma responded. “Let’s go.”

They drove together in silence, Henry looking out the window with a wide grin. He couldn’t wait to find Ava and Thomas, though he hoped Nicholas would stay far away. He liked Ava a lot and he didn’t understand why her twin was such a jerk. _He’s just angry about my mom leaving us._ Henry could hear her explanation in his head, but it didn’t make it any better. He remembered asking her, _And you’re not?_ She had said that she was, but that she wasn’t close to her mom like Nick had been. She had always been closer to her father, had preferred him over their absentee mother. But Nick, well, he’d always had a special attachment to their mother. She'd been gone nearly two years now, and he was still very angry about it. Henry felt bad for him, but he still didn’t like him very much. It didn’t excuse him being such a jerk to him.  

“You’re awfully quiet back there, kid. What’re you thinking about?”

Henry hesitated for a moment, wondering how honest he should be. He liked talking to his mom, but he wasn't really in the mood to delve deep into conversation or to talk about his emotions. It was easier to talk to Emma, who just spoke bluntly about stuff. He wouldn’t mind talking to her about this, but he wasn't sure how much he wanted to talk about it to his mom.

“Henry?”

He finally spoke up at the sound of his mother's voice.

“Just thinking about Ava’s mom leaving them.”

Regina’s heart jumped in her throat, her immediate concern that her son was thinking about his birth mother. It was a closed adoption, she knew nothing about the woman who birthed Henry (nor did she want to), and given how badly her son had reacted to the news of his adoption, she wasn’t overly eager to discuss anything about it right now.

“What’re you thinkin’?” Emma asked.

“That I guess it makes sense Nick is so mad at everybody because it’s pretty crappy his mom left like that. But I don’t like him though even though I feel bad for him.”

Regina’s heart fell back into place, her heartbeat slowing considerably that she’d been mistaken in her son’s thoughts.

“Don't have to like someone to feel bad for them. Not saying it’s an excuse that he treats you like shit cause his mom left, but it helps to know why, doesn’t it?”

Henry nodded from the back.

“Yeah.”

It did help knowing why Nicholas targeted him the way that he did. At least he knew _why,_ but it still sucked.

“You need therapy when you’re abandoned like that ‘cause it messes with your head. And if he’s not in therapy, well, he isn’t learning how to deal with his hurt and his pain. He might be acting like a jerk, angry all the time, but he has to be pretty sad his mom left him, doesn’t he?” Emma asked, looking up in the rear view mirror at her young passenger.

Henry nodded again.

“I guess so,” he answered softly. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, silence reigning over the vehicle before he spoke up again. “Maybe you could talk to him? You helped me and maybe you could help him too, you know, since you know what it’s like to be abandoned and stuff.”

“Henry!” Regina chastised, horrified that he’d say such a thing.

“It’s okay,” Emma cut in, before Regina could further reprimand him. “It’s okay to say things to me that are honest, as long as he’s not trying to be a jerk about it. You’re not trying to be rude or hurtful, are you Henry?”

His eyes widened as he vehemently shook his head. Maybe he should have said it more delicately then, with his mom around. Emma had told him it was okay to just be honest with her, but maybe he shouldn't have been _so_ honest.

“No. Never. I was just telling the truth.”

“Then it’s fine,” Emma said, pulling onto the main street in Storybrooke and parking the car. “No harm done, kid,” she reassured him, seeing his troubled expression. “Sometimes saying things like that would hurt someone else, so maybe don’t be so blunt with other people. But with me, it’s okay as long as you’re not trying to be mean.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

“Then no harm, no foul, bud. Go find your friends.”

Henry looked up at his mom.

“Is it okay?”

“Yes,” Regina answered, though she wasn’t sure she agreed with Emma’s words about it being ‘fine’ to be so blunt with her. “But stay within my line of vision.”

“Okay.”

He hopped out of the vehicle and ran up the street, saying hi to the people he met as he searched for his friends.

Regina stepped out of the vehicle, still troubled by what she had just heard.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Emma insisted when she got out of the car, seeing the look on Regina’s face.

“I don’t like the way he spoke to you.”

Emma approached her, looking her in the eyes.

“I told Henry that he doesn’t have to worry about what he says with me. I want him to be honest all the time, even if, yeah, sometimes it comes out a little blunt. But he’s just a kid and they’re not always the best at expressing themselves delicately. It’s more important for him to tell me what’s on his mind than watching what he’s saying to me.”

“There’s a balance. He needs to know to be careful of others’ feelings.”

“He doesn’t talk to other people the way he talks to me.” Emma paused, frowning. “That sorta implies he’s being rude but he’s not. I just mean, he opens up to me and just says what he thinks rather than thinks about what he says. He’s not allowed to be disrespectful or hurtful on purpose, but I don’t think he ever would be anyway. Kid keeps too much to himself so I want him to know he can just say what he thinks.”

“Does he come to you often?”

“Often enough,” Emma said with a shrug.

Regina stayed quiet. It was nice to know her son had someone he trusted to open up to, someone she was beginning to trust as well. But it bothered her to know her son was going to someone other than herself when he had a problem. Once upon a time, she was the only person in whom he confided.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, seeing Regina’s troubled expression. “Kids sometimes need someone other than their parents to talk to. He’s not doing drugs or anything like that, promise. He’s just trying to work out the world around him and sometimes needs a little help.”

“I should be the one helping him.”

“You are, by being his mom and loving him unconditionally. He knows you’re always there, and that is the most important thing in a kid’s life.”

Regina’s expression softened then, but she was still a little upset.

“Come on. I’ll buy you some toothpaste ice cream.”

Regina cracked then, fighting a smile.

“It’s not toothpaste.”

* * *

“So when is this train supposed to arrive?”

“Around 8.”

“It’s only 7:15. Why the hell did we come so early?” Emma complained.

“Because Henry enjoys spending time with his friends.”

“And what do you do while he does that?”

“I supervise.”

“Boring,” Emma commented. “Wanna play _I Spy_?”

Regina shot her a look.

“It is a wonder you are not part of the classes I teach. You are nothing but an overgrown child.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Emma whispered in awe, holding her hand to her heart as she blinked rapidly. “It’s gonna make me cry.”

Regina rolled her eyes as she smirked.

“Idiot.”

Emma looked up, her smile dropping.

“Uh-oh. _I Spy_ a scary dragon lady headed this way.”

Regina looked up just in time to spot her mother headed straight towards them. Her heart jumped in her throat. She was not expecting her mother here, otherwise she’d have changed into something more appropriate. She'd have redone her make-up, which was half smudged off after a full day at school. She'd have put up her hair. Oh God. Her hair, which was thrown up in a lazy bun and surely looked a mess. Why was her mother here? She didn’t even _live_ in Storybrooke! Why was she coming to see the Storybrooke train?

Regina turned away, ripping her hair out of her elastic and frantically trying to tie it back. Emma, who noticed her friend’s anxious movements, stepped around to face her.

“Regina?”

“Not now,” she snapped, turning away from Emma’s suddenly hurt expression, finishing what was likely an atrocious attempt at a ponytail. “Why didn’t I change before we came here?”

“Regina, darling. Stop fiddling with that elastic and say hello to your mother. Your hair is a lost cause anyway.”

Emma watched as Regina took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and turning around. She had a false smile firmly in place, taking a step forward and dutifully kissing her mother's cheek.

“Hello, mother.”

“Regina, you look… comfortable. Did you not have a moment to change after babysitting today?” Cora’s voice lowered. “The entire town is here.”

Regina lifted her chin, refusing to allow her mother to frighten her with the tone that used to bring her to her knees. Her mother’s voice still made her heart thump wildly in her chest, but Regina refused to let it show.

“It’s nice to see you as well, mother.” She then turned to the familiar face of her father, her smile warming significantly. “Hi, daddy. What are you doing here?”

“Henry invited us to come and see the train,” Henry Senior explained.

“Yes. How lovely of our _grandson_ to invite us to this event and not our own daughter. Regina, darling, have you forgotten your manners?” Cora asked, pointedly looking at Emma.

Regina took another breath.

“Mother, daddy, you remember Emma?”

“Emma?” Cora said, tone betraying her disapproval. “You’re on a first name basis? Is that any such way to treat your colleagues? I did not raise you to be so disrespectful.”

Emma, whose temporary hurt at Regina’s earlier tone had been quickly replaced with anger at the way this woman treated her daughter, finally stepped in.

“Well, it would be pretty awkward if we worked together and were so formal. I’m sure you understand a good rapport between teachers is incredibly beneficial to students.” 

Emma forced a smile, but inside she was seething. Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with this woman? She wanted nothing more than to tell Cora off for making Regina feel as uncomfortable as she was. Emma could feel the tension radiating off of Regina, could see the way she had squared her shoulders and was working her jaw, so Emma took a step towards her, hoping with her presence Regina feel more comfortable. Emma didn’t say much as her colleague spoke with her parents, instead taking the opportunity to observe Regina with them, to take in through body language what she couldn’t through words.

Emma could read people, had learnt to in order to survive in the system. She'd had to observe body language, facial expressions, tones, movements, in order to gauge someone’s intentions, in order to know whether she should run and hide for cover (lest she get beaten) or if she was safe to stay put. She'd had to make quick judgements as well, had had to figure out sometimes within minutes of stepping into a home whether or not this would be a place where she’d be hiding under tables, under beds, behind closet doors or if she’d have the relative idea of safety. It had served her well in life, and Emma had used those skills on one Cora Mills.

Within seconds of meeting Regina’s mother last time, she knew that the woman was cruel. Emma had sensed it in her presence, had seen it in her cold, empty eyes, in the way her mouth held itself in a near constant sneer. She could see it now in the way that she carried herself. She watched the way Cora’s mouth turned up in what was almost a pleased smile as she looked her daughter (who had crossed her arms before herself and was most definitely in a defensive pose), berating her for her attire once more.

Emma was on edge. She saw past the false smiles, the light tone, the seemingly innocent gestures. She knew what kind of woman Cora Mills was, and it made Emma’s protective instincts flare up. Emma had kept quiet for their first encounter, not feeling it was her place to take on Regina’s mother given how rocky her relationship was with Regina. But now, now they were friends (she was pretty sure they were friends) and she felt a need to protect Regina from the woman who called herself her mother. But, she wasn’t sure her protection would be welcome or well received. Maybe Regina would become angry at her for speaking up, feeling she could handle her mother herself, or maybe Emma would make things worse.

Emma was at war within herself, wanting to defend Regina but worried the woman wouldn’t want her to (or that she’d make things worse). Maybe for now she’d stay quiet and just listen, and step in if it looked like Regina were being backed into a corner.

“Emma?” Regina snapped, pulling the woman from her thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“Mother asked you how you were settling in?”

“Oh. I’m fine,” Emma said, keeping her answer brief.

Henry was due to arrive any minute with their ice creams anyway. (When he had caught wind that Regina and Emma were thinking of getting ice cream, he had immediately offered to go get them). At least once Emma had gotten ahold of her treat, she’d be better able to keep her mouth shut. Regina was still edgy, still short with her, and as much as Emma would love to tell off her mother, she wasn’t sure it was her place. She didn’t want to make things more difficult for Regina after all. So Emma looked towards the ice cream shop, hoping Henry would come soon. Emma wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep quiet for much longer, but she’d at least try. Unless the dragon woman got out of hand.

“Regina, darling. How are your toddlers doing?”

Emma watched as Regina gritted her teeth, jaw slackening before she responded.

“They’re not toddlers, mother. They’re school aged children and they’re doing quite well.”

“Regina’s a great teacher,” Emma cut in, taking advantage of the safe topic to add to the conversation. “The kids love her. She’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Regina was warmed by Emma’s words, but her lips soon lost their smile.

“I’m sure she is, though her talents are wasted. Regina excelled in school. She could have become a valuable, contributing member of society. Instead, she’s teaching drooling infants the alphabet.”

Emma ignored the insulting tone, instead focusing on Cora’s words.

“Which is kind of the most valuable thing a kid can learn if you think about it. Without the alphabet, you can’t read, and if you can’t read, you can’t write. And well, if you can’t do either of those then you might as just resign yourself to never getting anywhere in life. Plus, she’s teaching them in Spanish too, so the kids are getting even more opportunities with that second language. They’re lucky to have Regina to give them a good learning foundation.”

Cora scoffed.

“Let us not even begin to discuss that worthless language. English is the only language one needs to know in this country.”

Emma bit hard on her tongue, only refraining from responding because of the way Regina was currently looking at her. Emma knew that look, knew she was telling her to just _let it go_ , so Emma backed off. Only because her friend wanted her to though.

Emma was luckily saved from biting her tongue clean in half by Henry, who came running over with two ice creams in his hands.

“There you are,” Emma finally said, removing her gloves and shoving them in her pocket.

“Sorry. Long line,” he explained, handing his mother and his teacher their ice creams. He then turned to his grandparents. “Hi grandma, hi grandpa. I’m glad you came.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Henry,” Cora said.

“No problem. Um, is it okay if I go see my friends? They invited me over to build a castle in the snow with them.”

Cora smiled down at her grandson, patting his cheek.

“Go see your friends, my love.”

“Thanks!” Henry responded, eagerly running towards his friends.

Emma took a long lick of her ice cream after watching the exchange, looking over at Regina, who held her ice cream like it was diseased. She held it away from her body, looking almost panicked.

Emma frowned. After that shit show with her mother, she’d have assumed Regina would have dove right into the frozen treat. Emma sure as hell needed the dessert to calm herself down (so maybe she was a sugar addict, but there were worse things in life), so she went at it with gusto. She licked at her ice cream until she could feel the sugar rushing through her veins, finally pausing long enough to ask Regina if she was going to eat her own.

“Oh, darling, please do not tell me you will be consuming those empty calories. You know how sugar sticks to your thighs.”

Emma’s eyes widened significantly, her jaw snapping shut as she inhaled deeply. She looked over at Regina, who swallowed hard and looked down and then away.

“Don’t start,” Henry Sr. spoke, though his voice was timid at best. “We agreed not to discuss Regina’s weight again.”

Emma’s eyes shot back to Regina’s parents. _Again?!_ Were these types of comments a regular occurrence? Is that why Regina ate so little? Because her mom would target her weight? Emma’s fury ignited within her, eyes narrowing dangerously. _Don’t bitch slap her, don’t bitch slap her._

“Henry, you know it’s the truth,” Cora snapped. “She’ll never find a husband if she insists on consuming these types of foods.”

“I don’t want a husband, mother.”

“Please, darling. Not this again. Of course you want a husband. You want a father for Henry. And you won’t find one if you continue to indulge the way that you clearly have been. Did you not tell me you were following that Paleo diet the dietician encouraged you to adopt?” Cora then made the mistake of turning to Emma, who was holding her ice cream so hard she had cracked the cone, the frozen dessert dripping from her palm onto the snow beneath her feet. “You know I mean her no harm. I’m her mother and I simply want what’s best for her. You must understand.”

“Yeah, no,” Emma said angrily, throwing her ice cream into the garbage and wiping her hand on the flimsy napkin it came with. It got most of the liquid off of her fingers, but the rest clung to her hand uncomfortably. Emma hardly noticed though, nearly shaking with rage. She was barely keeping it in, focusing on using the last bits of clean napkin to wipe her palm. She didn’t say anything more because if she did, she’d snap.

“You don’t understand that I want what is best for my child? I do, you know. And I understand that a man likes a woman to look a certain way, and Regina, well, it is clear she indulges herself far too often-”

“Okay! We’re done,” Emma snapped, eyes filled with rage as she slammed her napkin in the garbage (as hard as one can _slam_ a napkin). Emma couldn’t hold back anymore now that she’d started, and so she turned to Cora, letting out everything she’d been holding in. “You’re sick, lady. You have fucking issues and apparently you’re _blind_ because your daughter is God damn gorgeous. She’s perfect exactly how she is, and whether she eats one, two, ten, or a hundred fucking ice creams, she’ll _still_ look perfect. Cause she’s more than just her looks, even though they’re plenty!

“Regina’s brilliant, an awesome teacher, and she doesn’t teach _toddlers._ She teaches school aged kids. But even if she did teach toddlers, that would be nothing to be ashamed of! I can’t handle another second with you putting her down for being anything other than the amazing woman that she is, so I’m gonna leave now.”

Emma looked at Regina then, taking a deep breath in order to soften her voice.

“I’m sorry if that was out of line. I don’t wanna make things worse between you guys, but I can’t stand here and pretend like what she’s saying isn’t complete bullshit and pissing me right the fuck off. You’re beautiful and you’re brilliant. And I’m gonna go over and see Henry for a little while to calm down. I hope you join us soon.”

Emma stormed off, taking deep breaths of the cool night air in order to calm down. God damn that woman was a piece of fucking work. How she’d love to just punch her right in her stupid, fake, (probably plastic-surgery’d) face.

Emma desperately wished she had a cigarette (she didn’t smoke, had never smoked, but apparently cigarettes calmed you down?), marching over quickly until she finally joined Henry and Ava, who were busy playing in the snow. They’d found a large patch of untouched snow, illuminated by the lights from the streets and nearby buildings. Emma smiled then, slowing to a walk and looking down at their make-shift fort.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Building a snow house. Wanna join?” Henry asked. “I’m making the couch and Ava is building a table. You can make the tv if you want?”

“Oh man. Definitely gonna need a tv if I’m gonna be moving into this house,” Emma announced.

* * *

Regina watched Emma storm off, a little stunned at the way she’d so vehemently defended her. Normally, people were afraid to go up against Cora Mills, but Emma, well, she’d told her off without even blinking.

“Your friend is ill-mannered.”

“No, mother,” Regina argued, looking back at her before tossing her ice cream in the garbage (her stomach protested violently at the idea of consuming it). “ _You_ were ill-mannered. Emma simply defended me.”

Cora looked her daughter up and down, her eyes coming up and holding Regina's gaze. 

“She’s new to this town, isn’t she?”

“You know that she is.”

“So, she doesn’t know about your little secret, does she?”

Regina’s blood ran cold. Her mother’s tone was even, but Regina heard the threat behind it.

“Mother, don’t you _dare-”_

“No, Regina, don’t _you_ dare speak against me. You know what will happen if you dare try to cross me.”

Henry Sr. finally stepped in, placing himself in front of his daughter.

“Cora, I believe it’s time to go now.”

“How dare you-”

“Daddy’s right,” Regina said, feeling braver now that her father had stepped in. “It is time to leave. I’m going to join my friend and my son. I’ll see you later.”

Without even sparing them a second glance, Regina turned around. She could feel tears building, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them surface. She was scared now, worried, for she knew the kind of power her mother had. She was vindictive, and cruel, and she always got revenge on those who crossed her. And Regina, speaking up just now and then leaving without saying goodbye, well. She had crossed her. Not to mention the way that Emma had spoken up against her.

Regina’s stomach clenched, her arms coming up to wrap tightly around her middle. She forced herself to walk forward towards her son. She tried hard to push away the terror she felt at what her mother might do in retaliation for what had just occurred.

Emma looked up when she caught movement right in front of her, a small smile breaking out when she noticed familiar boots before her. She then looked all the way up, beyond the tight black pants and grey coat, past the burgundy scarf, and into familiar brown eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hello. Will you walk with me for a moment?”

Emma, suddenly feeling as though she were in trouble, nodded at her.

“Sorry guys, no tv,” Emma said apologetically, turning to the kids. 

Her response was twin ‘awws’, causing the adults to chuckle. Emma stood then, noticing the lack of ice cream in Regina’s hand, stomach plummeting at the thought that her mother’s words had gotten to her.

They walked in silence, not venturing too far from Henry, just far enough from the crowd that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Listen, I’m sorry about losing it back there. I shouldn’t have-”

“No. Please don’t apologise. I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with her.” _And terrified, and worried, and dreading her vengeance._ Regina sighed, looking up at the stars before looking back at her son. “She’s… a difficult woman, who always has something to criticise. Especially about me. As far back as I can remember, I’ve always done something wrong in her eyes. I’ve always _been_ wrong. I’m too fat, too dark. My hair is too curly, I have an accent when I speak English, I slouch too much when I sit. I’m not intelligent enough, my grades could be higher. I didn’t clean my room correctly. I don’t have enough friends.” Regina glanced at Emma then before looking away. “ _I’ve_ always been wrong. So I spent my younger years trying to please her. I still try to sometimes, because she’s my mother. And I want her to have a relationship with Henry because he adores his grandparents, and as far as I know, they’ve been nothing but kind to him. I have managed to stave off most of her comments by simply dressing the way that pleases her when I know I’m going to see her. I’ve managed to survive her attacks by keeping my guard up when I know she is around or when I’m going to see her. But it is in these moments where I don’t expect her that she… sinks her teeth in.”

“And takes a huge fucking bite.”

Regina gave a small smile, though she didn't find humour in the comment.

“Yes.”

She had felt unbelievably exposed tonight, not armed like she usually was with her perfect hair, flawless make up, flattering outfits, commanding heels. She wore a veritable suit of armour when she knew she was going to face her mother, but tonight, tonight she hadn’t expected her, and so she’d been laid bare for her mother to rip apart.

“You know that she's wrong, right?” Emma said suddenly, earnestly. “She’s wrong about what she said.”

Regina gave an empty laugh.

“About what?”

“All of it,” Emma insisted. “That you’ll never find a husband. That your make-up doesn’t look good or your hair or whatever else she said. About your weight. That one pisses me the most off because you’re underweight if anything. You _don’t_ indulge and the one day that you finally do have an ice cream, she ruins it for you.”

“How do you know that she did? Perhaps I ate it on my way here.”

“Did you?” Emma asked skeptically. She nodded when Regina shook her head. “I didn’t think so. You won’t have trouble finding a husband, Regina. No man is gonna look at you and think, ‘Yeah, no thanks’. Unless he’s gay. But even the gay ones would look at you and think _damn_. And they’d commend you on your sense of style too.”

Regina let out a soft laugh.

“You know I mean it, right? No man would reject you, Regina.”

She said it so insistently that Regina sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t want a man, Emma. I wasn’t lying when I said I did not want a husband. It is… a rather serious source of contention between my mother and me.”

“That you don’t want a husband?”

“That I’m a lesbian,” Regina admitted, looking up at Emma.

Emma, who was too stunned to say anything, stood silently for several seconds just staring at the woman before her. She finally uttered the only thing her brain could come up with.

“You’re a lesbian?”

“Yes. Just another thing wrong with me, I suppose. In her eyes, at least.”

“Well,” Emma stuttered out, her mind finally starting to work again, “you’re in good company. Cause there’s something wrong with me too then.”

Emma looked over, grinning conspiratorially.

“Oh yes?” Regina asked, smile forming on her lips.

Henry may have let it slip that _Emma likes girls too_ , but Regina had been waiting for confirmation from the woman herself. After having been the source of gossip for so long, Regina was careful with second-hand information. 

“Didn’t you suspect? The short nails, horrible fashion sense, the _gym teacher_. Come on, Regina. How many more stereotypes do I have to fill?”

“Do you have a dog?” Regina asked teasingly.

Emma laughed loudly.

“Nah. No dogs. I prefer pussy-” Emma gave a lengthy pause before adding, “cats.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“How crude.”

Emma continued smiling, glancing over at Regina, who caught her eye and smiled herself.

“So you too, huh?”

“Did you never suspect, Miss Swan?”

“Eh, I figured it was just wishful thinking. Not too many lesbians I know who paint their nails, wear make-up every day, wear dresses, and just look all-around as feminine as you do.”

“Lipstick lesbians do exist, you know.”

“Yeah, I do. Just never figured I’d be lucky enough to meet one. I just thought they were like unicorns or fairies, you know? Some say they exist. Some think they exist. But for me they were these magical creatures I was never really sure were real.”

Regina snorted, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as she began walking further away from the crowd. Emma followed, watching her as she moved. The knowledge that Regina was a lesbian suddenly intrigued her, making her belly flutter with excitement. She liked Regina, enjoyed her company, and the thought that she was a lesbian too, well, it was exciting.

“I would have thought someone would have told you by now, about… my preferences,” Regina said, pulling Emma from her thoughts.

“Contrary to popular belief, Regina, I don’t really talk about you to anyone other than Henry. And he hasn’t said anything. Not about your sexuality anyway.”

“What _has_ he said?”

Emma shrugged.

“That some shitty rumours went around about you and sometimes they still come up. I know there’s something I’m missing between you and Mary Margaret. Or you and like, everybody else in this town. There’s a story here I’m missing. And I can tell by the way that you’re all tense right now that you don’t really wanna talk about this, but maybe you wanna know what I know?”

Regina looked up, surprised that Emma had seemingly read her mind.

“You can ask, Regina. Don’t pussyfoot. Like I told Henry, if you wanna know something, just ask. I don’t know anything about whatever happened here with you. I don’t know what went down. All I know is that something happened, rumours got spread, and it had to be something big because you left. I don’t know anything more because I haven’t asked.

“Rumours a lot of time are just shit that people make up to be cruel. And I frankly don’t wanna know what other people are saying. If you decide one day you wanna talk about it, and tell me what happened to drive you out of this town, and tell me if there's any truth to whatever rumours people had spread, then I’ll wait for you to tell me. Until then, I'm gonna stay in the dark until you’re comfortable with talking to me about it.”

Regina stopped walking, holding herself tight as she looked down at the ground and then up again at Emma.

“I don’t trust very easily, Emma.”

“I got that a long time ago. I know you've been through a lot of shit. And I know you’ve survived on your own for a long time. I get that and I respect it. I’m not asking you to force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“What are you asking for then?”

“Your friendship, Regina. It’s all I ever wanted from you. I won’t lie and say I’m not interested in you because I am. I think… you may have caught onto that.” Emma gave a short, embarrassed laugh at Regina's smirk. “I’m not subtle, I know. Honestly never figured anything would come of it, cause I thought you were straight. And now, well, maybe there could be more in the future, if you feel interested or if you grow to trust me. But for now, I really do just want to be your friend. And maybe, as you get to know me better, and get to trusting me, maybe you’ll decide you’d like something more as well. But if you don’t, that’s okay too. For now, I just want to be your friend, okay?”

Regina looked at her, searching her eyes. She could see nothing but warmth and sincerity in them. It had been so long since she’d had a friend. Since she’d trusted someone. She was terrified and she felt incredibly exposed, vulnerable. But when Emma held out her hand and smiled at her, Regina slowly, tentatively, slipped her hand into Emma’s.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter as I try to deal with this writer's block...

“Miss Swan. Fancy meeting you here.”

“This is the faculty lunchroom. It’s lunch time and I’m part of the faculty,” Emma said, grinning over at her. “You’re the one I should be saying that to anyway. You hadn’t shown your face here since the start of school. For the last week and a half though, all of a sudden, you’re here every lunch period. _And_ you sit with me. I’m starting to think I have something to do with it.”

“My, Miss Swan, your powers of deduction are astounding. You must be a very smart girl.”

Emma grinned, plopping down next to Regina. They’d begun meeting in the cafeteria last week, following their conversation on the night they’d gone out to see the train. After Henry’s observation that Emma was going well out of her way to come and get Regina, the brunette had suggested they begin meeting in the cafeteria to see Granny before then heading to the staff lunch room, which was between both of their classrooms. The first few days had brought stares and whispers, but Emma had held Regina’s attention, keeping her laughing and distracted from the looks. By the end of the week, gossip began to fade and Regina became a common face in the staff lunch room, always sitting in the corner of the room where she and Emma ate lunch.

“So, it’s the last week of school next week,” Regina said, when the conversation went a little quiet. “Are you excited to be off?”

Emma shrugged.

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to sleep in and just relax.”

“Do you have any plans for the holidays?”

When Emma’s jaw flexed, and not because she was eating, Regina almost regretted asking. She was trying to segue into inviting Emma for Christmas, at Henry’s insistence of course, but she hadn’t meant to upset the woman who had been nothing but kind to and supportive of her. She'd have to find another way to bring it up.

“Yeah, not really. I think I might travel around. I’ve never seen the East Coast.”

“You’re going to travel? Emma-”

“Don’t tell me not to. I want to travel and this is the perfect opportunity.”

“Emma, winters here are harsh. It’s not the best time to be travelling,” Regina said seriously. “You could get hurt. Besides, there isn’t anything to see. Everything is covered in snow.”

Emma smiled, though Regina could see it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I like snow.”

“Emma.”

“Listen, I don’t-” Emma glanced around, but the room was pretty much empty. No one was paying attention to them, so she continued. “I don’t like holidays. They make me uncomfortable. So, can we just not talk about this anymore?”

Regina eyed her carefully before relenting.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. What are you and Henry planning on doing?”

“Not much,” Regina replied, allowing Emma to change the topic of conversation. “We do our baking on the 23rd and spend Christmas eve watching movies all day. Christmas morning he opens his presents. We normally go to my parents’ home and visit a few friends, but I’m not sure that we will this year after what happened the night of the Christmas train. Then, Boxing Day is spent playing with his toys. The rest of the time, we simply spend together.”

“Sounds nice,” Emma said wistfully.

“You know, we’d like it if you came,” Regina blurted.

“What?”

“I’d like you to join us,” Regina repeated. “Henry would like it as well. He’s already asked if you’d come, and the reason I was asking about your plans earlier is because I was hoping you would join us.”

“I-” Emma paused, hesitating.

Emma honestly didn’t really want to, but she didn’t know how to say no without disappointing her friend. She'd had enough of infringing on other families’ Christmas holidays, sitting in the corner watching people open gifts while she opened a generic one that someone had bought. Usually it wasn’t even with her mind, but one you bought ‘just in case’. That’s what she was, a ‘just in case’ person. It sucked, but she had figured opening _something_ was better than opening nothing. But there were only so many boxes of chocolates or bath soaps one needed.

Emma wasn’t trying to sound ungrateful. She had had more than one year she spent alone, or worse, she spent with others who truly did not want her there, who ignored her or sent her in another room where she could hear the festivities but was not allowed to partake. So she appreciated the invite, but she'd had enough of being wedged into a tradition she did not fit into or did not belong. She didn’t want to feel out of place yet again, especially not with the two people who had come to mean so much to her.

“That’s a nice offer, but I really wanted to tour the East Coast. Winter is pretty and the snow is nice. Maybe we could get together after the holidays, before school starts back up?”

Regina frowned.

“If that’s what you’d prefer, but-”

“I would,” Emma said, smiling sweetly. She was sure Regina would make an effort to make her feel included if she had joined them, but in the end, it would still end up with Emma feeling like an outsider. She didn’t know their traditions, didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know what came next or what they did first. It would all have to be explained to her, like it did every year with every new family, and Emma didn’t want that. She'd much rather just go off and do her own thing.

“When are you leaving?”

Emma shrugged.

“Whenever. I don’t really have a plan. Just gonna take my GPS and see where I end up.”

“Will you at least text me so that I know you’re alive?”

Emma grinned.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Emma reached over and snagged one of Regina’s apple slices, munching on it as she shot the other woman a grin (to counter her glare). “So, you finish up the kid’s Christmas shopping?”

“Yes, you thief. I did. Last month.”

“Of course you’ve been done for a month. What'd you get him?”

“Legos, some new graphic novels, chocolates, socks, a few articles of clothing. I also bought him SingStar and Dance Dance Revolution.”

“Okay, I know DDR but what’s SingStar?”

“A singing game. I’m not quite sure. I believe the point of the game is to remember as many lyrics as possible or to sing a song. I don’t know. I just know he and Ava were discussing the game.”

Emma frowned, seeing the way Regina’s voice had lowered, almost like she was sad.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“When Ava brought up the game, he said he no longer wanted it. I overheard her telling him that what the boys said didn’t matter. That if he wanted the game, he should ask for it for Christmas. Then Henry insisted that since it was a girl’s game, he didn't want it.” Regina looked up then. “I’m his mother. I know his voice. He wanted it.”

“Do you think it’s gonna upset him that you got it for him anyway?”

Regina shrugged.

“Perhaps? But I've spoken to David, who said he’d be willing to come over on Boxing Day to play it with Henry. If he sees a man playing, it may help him realise a game is just a game, and it can be enjoyed by anyone.”

“Did he say who was teasing him?” Emma asked casually.

Regina raised her eyebrow, smirk on her lips.

“You aren’t subtle.”

“What?”

“You’re going to try to speak to those boys.”

“No, I’m gonna scare them into not being little shits.”

Regina smiled, taking a small bite of her apple slice.

“Thank you. For wanting to defend him. But he needs to learn to defend himself. No matter how much I’d like to punish those boys myself.”

“He said something to me before, about liking ‘girl’ things. I don’t want him to change what he likes just because it’s not… I don’t know, what all the other guys are doing. I don’t want him to feel pressured by societal expectations.”

Regina sighed, nodding. She was under no illusions about her son's sexuality. She’s known since he was four that he was a little more… feminine than most typical boys. He enjoyed dressing up, liked tea parties, gravitated towards pinks and pastel colours. He liked to dance and sing and wear feather boas. Her heels had become his favourite obsession at the age of 6, and when he was 8, she'd found him rifling through her make up. They’d had a quick chat about gender, Regina wondering for some time if perhaps Henry felt he was a girl, but he’d quickly set her straight with his answer of _No, mom. I’m a boy. I like my penis. I just like your make-up too_. She'd had to stifle a laugh at his innocent, yet honest response. So Henry was a boy, who was a bit feminine, and who would, in all likelihood, like other boys when he got older.

“He’s a good kid. It pisses me off that he’s being bullied for the shit he likes,” Emma said, irritated.

“Children can be cruel. Luckily, we live in a world where children who don’t conform to gender norms are becoming more accepted. However, he will continue to cross many bigoted people in his life, despite this, and as much as I’d like to shelter him from it all (and truly, Regina did, for it made her heart ache that her son was taunted for being himself), I can’t. He needs to learn to defend himself and to navigate the bigots he will encounter in his life. As he ages, his penchant for more feminine things will become less and less acceptable to his peers. They’ll be less tolerant and as the other boys begin to play sports and Henry, well, chooses to join a choir or the drama club, that will only increase their taunting. Or, hopefully by that point, there will be another wave of acceptance and he will not be targeted.”

Regina blinked back tears, taking a sip of her water before continuing.

“Until then, I want to encourage his interests. I want him to have all of the singing and the dancing games he wants. I want his home to be a place where he is free to enjoy all the things he wants, even if he refuses to admit he enjoys them. And if I have to put up with the tantrum he may have that dancing is a _girl’s_ game, that he really doesn’t want it, and to return it, I’ll endure his tantrum, just as I have in the past when the voices of those around him invaded his thoughts and told him he shouldn’t like something because he was a _boy_. So he’ll have a fit, become angry, lash out. And then I’ll forgive him when he comes and apologises and tells me that he truly does want the game, and he’s sorry. I will put up with all of it until he understands that his mother will love him despite his interest in _girl_ things, or maybe even because of them. I want him to learn there is nothing wrong with him.”

And Regina would, she’d put up with every tantrum and every fit and every tear so that her son could eventually enjoy the things he wanted to enjoy. Because she knew he was struggling. She knew he was fighting himself, that he was trying not to like the things that he liked. He had tried to play with BB guns and GI Joes and footballs. But he didn’t like them. And it was obvious he didn’t like them. Regina had bought him those toys for his 9th birthday (at Henry’s request), but he hadn’t played with any of them. So when that Christmas rolled around and they went through the toy store and he’d stopped before the Easy Bake Oven, had looked and looked and _wanted_ , despite his insistence that _pfft, no. That’s for girls_.

Regina had bought it.

She had bought it and her stomach had clenched with joy at how _excited_ Henry had become, his eyes lighting up and the grin etching wide of his face, squealing that he’d gotten an Easy Bake Oven! Until he had calmed down and then his face had changed, had become somber, and he’d pushed the box away and then yelled that Easy Bake Ovens were for _girls_. Screamed that he wasn’t a girl and he didn’t want _girl_ things. It had taken a lot of tears and a tantrum and his being sent to his room for his rude words (he could express himself, yes, but not disrespectfully), and an hour of calming down before he’d come back downstairs, crying, and flung himself at Regina to apologise for his behaviour and admit that yes, he had desperately wanted that Easy Bake Oven. It had remained their secret, Regina kept under strict rules to keep the box carefully hidden at the back of the pantry, behind the extra tablecloths. And if anyone were to find it, she had promised that she’d say it was hers, that she’d wanted it, and she’d kept it hidden for fear of being mocked for wanting a children’s toy.

Regina would do anything for her son, would endure anything (besides rude or disrespectful behaviour) because he was worth it. He was starting to struggle to accept himself, and Regina knew it was only going to get worse, but she wanted Henry to know that she accepted him no matter what, that she would love him unconditionally. 

Emma was pretty sure she had just fallen in love. Okay, maybe not actually, but God damn she was swooning. Hearing this woman talk so passionately about her son, the way she was so accepting of him, it made Emma’s heart swell. She wanted to lean forward and kiss Regina for how wonderful a mother she was. Instead, she reached out and grabbed Regina’s hand, squeezing it.

“You’re an _amazing_ mother. He is so lucky to have you.”

Regina smiled, pulling her hand away when Emma let it go. She ignored the way her skin burned where Emma had touched her, instead focusing down on her last two pieces of apple. Her heart was swollen in her chest, heavy with the emotions that always surfaced when she spoke about her son.

“I’m the lucky one.”

“I’m glad you bought him the games. Maybe we can make a night of it when I get back, and I can finally make good on dancing those circles around you.”

Regina smiled widely then, her grin matching Emma’s.

“You’re on.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

The following week went by in a flurry of energy, too much sugar, and not enough sleep. Regina and Emma spent their lunch breaks together as usual, and on their spares, they worked on Emma's Spanish pronunciation and the second unit of Regina's lessons (because of course she broke her lessons into units, complete with quizzes and tests- much to Emma's dismay). Normally, Regina would have continued with something like 'family' after her first unit (which had been pronunciation), but given that it was Christmas, the second unit of her lessons involved words like árbol de Navidad, regalos, and ángeles (Emma exclaiming  _Los Angeles! The angels!_   _I never knew that's what it meant!_ ).

Emma's pronunciation had gotten significantly better, now at least able to properly say the words she didn't understand, even if she didn't know what they meant. She had even started calling Regina 'ray-hee-na', despite Regina telling her that was not actually her name (though she did admit that yes, phonetically, that was how you would pronounce her name in Spanish). Emma was loving her lessons, enjoying Regina's unconditional attention, and she thoroughly liked the way she could make Regina smile and laugh with her antics. And Emma had to admit she was enjoying learning, now able to pick out words in songs she heard. Not many. Like, three. But it was three more than she could before she started her lessons.

On their last day of school before Christmas break, after the bell rang, Regina followed Emma to her already-packed car, looking at it with concern. She hadn't brought up again how much she hated the fact that Emma was travelling during the winter. She had respected Emma's decision to go and they hadn't at all discussed her going, and Regina found she regretted it. She wished she had at least found out if Emma had gotten winter tires for her car, if she had packed an emergency kit in case she broke down, if she had a spare phone in case hers broke or got lost, if she had mapped out at least an  _idea_  of where she would be for the next two weeks.

When Emma looked over at Regina, she knew exactly what the woman was thinking. All week, Regina had been wanting to say something, Emma knew. She could tell in the way the woman would suddenly grow quiet and stare at her, her mouth opening a few centimetres before closing again. Regina would look away in those moments, her brow furrowed, before she'd finally look back at Emma blankly, wiping her expression of any of its earlier distress. Emma knew Regina was thinking about her travelling, but she was grateful her colleague never said anything to discourage her. Emma couldn't stay here, not during Christmas.

"Hey," Emma finally said, pulling Regina from her thoughts. "It's gonna be fine. I'm gonna send you lots of pictures and we'll talk all the time. I'll probably annoy the shit out of you with all the messages I'll send."

Regina shook her head, finally saying what she'd been holding in all week.

"I wish you would reconsider my offer."

Emma smiled at her.

"I've had my fair share of Christmases at other people's houses. I'm good. I appreciate the offer though."

"You wouldn't be a guest, Emma. You would be… part of us."

"I'm a guest, Regina. I don't live at your house. I don't have any of my stuff there. I don't know where anything is in your house. I'd be a guest. Or at the very least, I'd feel like one. I'd just be uncomfortable and I've had enough uncomfortable Christmases. I'll be back in a week, alright?"

Regina sighed, reluctantly nodding. She figured Emma wouldn't accept, but she had to try one last time.

"Good. Now give me a hug," Emma said.

Regina took a step forward without hesitation and wrapped her arms around Emma's neck. Emma pulled her close, sliding her arms around Regina's lower back and holding her tight. It was their first hug, the first time they'd touched like this, and Emma held on far longer than she probably should have, but Regina didn't seem to mind. Especially not since she was clinging to her just as tightly as Emma was.

"You're going to call," Regina said, her voice thick with emotion. She was just so  _worried_. And sad. She'd gotten used to seeing Emma every day, or nearly every day, and now she wasn't going to see her for… well, at least a week. Maybe longer. "You're going to call me every day, Emma."

"I'm going to call, I promise."

"And you'll be careful. You won't drive through snowstorms."

"I'll be careful, Regina. I wouldn't do anything stupid."

"It may be beyond your control. You're an idiot after all."

Emma laughed in her shoulder, the word almost sounding affectionate. She squeezed Regina one last time before pulling away. She ducked down and looked into Regina's saddened eyes, smiling softly at her.

"Hey. I'm not going to war. I'll be back in like a week."

"I'm going to miss you," Regina admitted.

"I'll miss you too. But I'll be back soon."

Before she could think twice about it, Emma pulled Regina close and pecked her on the temple. She then quickly slid away and into her car, starting it. Emma looked up at Regina, who just looked so depressed, and forced a smile at her. She waved her hand as she backed out of the parking lot, waving once again as she headed down the road. She'd said goodbye to Henry earlier today, and she was glad that she had. Because she wasn't sure she could have held off the tears if both Mills were looking at her with the same distraught expression. So Emma looked forward, staring at the road, but in the corner of her eye she caught sight of Regina wiping at her cheeks in her rear view mirror.

* * *

 

Regina spent the next two days staying as busy as she could, her phone glued to her hip as she and Emma exchanged texts whenever the blonde was stopped. Regina received countless pictures of frozen lakes, trees, less-than-stellar motel rooms, and some rather homely looking diners, just as promised. Regina informed Emma of the goings-on in Storybrooke, which basically meant she told Emma nothing because nothing ever happened in sleepy Storybrooke. (Other than that one year when the Christmas tree in the Main Square falling on the neighbourhood grump. But that was a one-time occurrence.)

So the first days of their vacation went quickly, Regina and Henry doing their traditional Christmas baking on the 23rd , creating delicious treats that they then consumed, while also saving a good portion for Emma (Regina wouldn't allow Henry to eat that much sugar after all). Regina sent a few pictures to Emma, receiving a quick smiley face in response a few hours later. Regina assumed the other woman was still travelling and had sent the emoticon during a pit stop. She was glad to hear back, but she was also a little disappointed that she hadn't heard more.

At ten p.m. that evening, figuring it was late enough that Emma had probably stopped somewhere for the night, Regina reached out and sent off a " _How are the roads?"_ text. She waited until 10:30 before sending off a second text asking that Emma check in, only receiving a brief " _roads are good. I'm beat so I'm gonna sleep now. Hope you had a good day"_ in response. Regina stared down at her phone, disappointed yet again. She had hoped they would get to talk more than that. But, Emma had been travelling for two days now and she was probably tired, so it was best that she rest up. With a sigh, Regina put her phone away and crawled into bed.

On Christmas eve, Regina and Henry spent the day in their pyjamas, watching movies and playing board games, laughing and teasing one another as they got ready for "Santa" to come. Henry timidly asked to put out cookies for Santa before bed (which Regina enthusiastically agreed to do), despite the fact that he knew Regina was the one to deliver the gifts and that Santa was not real. Regina's heart had soared as they set out their Santa plate and a tall glass of milk right next to the tree, eyes watering as her traitorous mind brought up the fact that this may perhaps be the last year they would complete this ritual. Regina then sent Henry to bed and fired off a text to Emma (complete with picture of the cookies for Santa) while sitting in front of the tree, sipping a glass of wine. She heard back from the blonde some time later, once all the gifts were under the tree and the lights were all out. Regina wondered if Emma truly was enjoying herself as much as she said she was, given that it was Christmas eve and Emma was all alone. Regina told the blonde that she missed her, and she received a hugging emoji back.

Christmas day, Regina didn't stop. Henry woke her at 6 right on the dot, announcing that Santa had arrived. They headed downstairs at 6:03 precisely, and by 6:30 Henry had opened his gifts and was happily playing with his new singing game (no tantrum, only excitement). Regina sent a text to Emma wishing her a Merry Christmas and to let her know what happened about the singing game. After checking her phone for an hour after, she gave up on hearing back.

After opening gifts, Regina sent a text to David, one to Ruby, another to her friend Kathryn, and after some hesitation, to her parents, wishing them all a Merry Christmas. Her phone vibrated, and vibrated, and then vibrated again. And every time her phone did, Regina was secretly disappointed to note that it wasn't Emma responding.

But, that didn't stop her enjoying one of her favourite days of the years. Regina and Henry ate their regular Christmas breakfast (a feast of waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit, and cookies) before eventually heading over to her parents' house. Regina hadn't planned on going, but Henry asked excitedly if they could go, and when he looked at her so eagerly, Regina couldn't deny him. So they went to her parents' home (where she was cut down continuously by her mother, leaving feeling incredibly low until she ended up at her friend Kathryn's, who boosted her morale back to where it was this morning). By the time they ended up back at home, both Regina and Henry were exhausted. He insisted on playing with his toys a little more, Regina watching from the couch, nostalgic for when her little boy used to be so  _little_. Now, he was a few years shy of becoming a surly teenager, and it made her want to cry a little.

Regina checked her phone to distract herself while Henry worked on building his 3-D puzzle of Hogwarts. She still hadn't heard back from Emma, but she made sure to tell herself it was because the woman was busy enjoying her own Christmas holiday and not because Emma is in a hotel room sad and alone, or worse, had flipped her car hours ago and was lying unconscious. No. That was her anxiety getting the best of her, so Regina put her phone away and clamped down on her worry and disappointment.

When Regina still didn't hear back from Emma by the morning of the 26th, she can't calm her anxiety. She was concerned, texting her friend twice more. She heard back briefly ( _all's good. Sorry for the delay. I've been driving a lot)_ , so her concern was abated at least, but she was secretly saddened at the lack of information and wondering, once again, if Emma were really okay. She asked, but got back a very short "yes" in reply, and Regina hears nothing more until the following evening, a text message that comes while she is in the midst of scolding her son.

"Henry, it has been two days. You've enjoyed the spirit of Christmas, but I'm no longer asking. I am now  _telling_  you to get rid of the wrapping paper on my floor and to put the boxes from your toys into the recycling. You won't like what happens if you don't."

Henry, hearing her  _mom_  voice, knows he's pushed his luck to the limit. He liked having Christmas wrapping paper all over the living room, liked the toys littering the normally pristine floor, the boxes open and discarded on the couch. He knew his mom had hated the mess ever since he'd torn apart his gifts on Christmas morning, but she had tolerated it. To be honest, he was surprised it had even last an hour, let alone two days, so he got up and began cleaning. He was in the middle of crushing the box for his flying helicopter when he heard his mom's frantic voice coming from the kitchen, immediately dropping the load of cardboard he'd had in his hand and raced to where she was rapidly pacing the kitchen, lifting her purse, a sweater, frantically looking for something.

"How long has it been, Emma? …  _Three hours?!_  Are you insane! Emma, you'll get hypothermia in this weather! …You should have called sooner! ... When it happened!"

Regina yanked her keys off the counter with a frustrated growl, having finally found them. Henry backed out of her way, knowing not to stand in her way when she was like this. He followed her around as she moved through the house, gathering her coat and shoes, hoping to catch enough of the one-sided information to understand what was going on. All he had gotten so far was that Emma was possibly outside in the cold for three hours?

"I'm on my way, Emma. Stay in your car and cover yourself in a blanket. … Why don't you have a blanket in your car? It is the middle of winter and this is Maine! … Okay, I'm sorry. I know I'm yelling but I'm worried and I'm angry you that waited three fucking hours to call me. … I'm on my way."

Henry's eyes grew wide. His mom  _never_  swore. She had to be really, really upset, so the second she hung up the phone and looked at him, he was ready to jump and do whatever she asked.

"You're going to David's while I go get Emma."

Henry nodded, running for his coat as his mom dialed the neighbour's number. He wanted to go with her, wanted to see Emma, but he didn't dare question his mother when she was so frantic. Henry came back, zipping up his coat as he raced to where his mother was. He expected her to tell him to go next door, but instead, she was frowning at him.

"He's not answering, so I guess you're coming with me."

He didn't protest (he had wanted to come after all), putting on his boots and hopping into the backseat as instructed.

Henry sat quietly in the back, even when the car became boiling hot with the way the heated was blaring. They had only been driving ten minutes, but Henry could sense his mom was still upset so he stayed quiet. He wasn't scared of her, but he didn't want to upset her more, so he discreetly unzipped his coat and sighed happily. After twenty minutes though, he couldn't take it anymore and asked if he could take off his coat. His mom must have heard something in his voice because she looked at him guiltily and told him  _"Of course, I'm sorry_ ", reaching over to turn down the heat.

He waited another ten before asking if Emma was okay and where they were going.

"She's fine. Her car broke down, and rather than texting me right away when she couldn't reach Mary Margaret, she decided to call a tow truck and wait in her vehicle in sub-zero temperature rather than calling me to retrieve her. We're nearly there."

Henry stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, staying in the car when they parked. He watched as his mother raced to where Emma had told her she was, looking outside and wondering how in the world his teacher had managed to stay three hours (three and a half now) in the freezing cold. It wasn't snowing, but there was wind, and after ten years of living in Maine, Henry knew it wasn't the snow that was the dangerous part, it was the wind.

Regina raced up to the broken down vehicle and found Emma shivering in the driver's side. Regina shook her head, her heart beating out of her chest in concern, but breathing a sigh of relief to see that Emma appeared unharmed.

"Come on," she growled, helping Emma out of the car and to her own warm vehicle.

Emma was frozen stiff, lips a light shade of blue, her skin incredibly cold to the touch. She wasn't wearing a hat or mittens or a scarf, and Regina had had to bite her tongue in order to hold back the sharp words she'd have liked to let loose. She helped Emma sit, turning every vent from the car in her direction before ripping off her own hat and mitts and putting them on Emma (who trembled as Regina slipped on the gloves). Regina then slammed the door shut, rounded the corner and got back into the driver's seat, rubbing her hands together. She was chilly after only just a few seconds out in the cold. She didn't understand how Emma was able to endure it for hours.

"When did you call the two truck?"

"Alm-most three hours ag-go."

Regina huffed in irritation.

"Give me your phone."

Emma fumbled in her pocket, her fingers frozen and uncoordinated, pulling out her phone and handing it over. Regina grabbed the phone, pulling up the most recently dialled numbers.

"This number here?" Regina asked, pointing to the last number called. When Emma nodded, Regina dialed it, speaking harshly with the woman on the phone, who announced it will be another 20 minutes before help arrived. Regina, furious with the time it had taken already and irate with the woman beside her, spent an additional five minutes berating the woman and the company for the amount of time they were taking to get there. Regina ended the conversation by hanging up on the less-than-helpful woman (annoyed that this was not a proper phone she could slam down), handing Emma the phone but saying nothing to her.

They sat in relative silence, Emma feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. She could feel Regina's anger, her irritation, and Emma felt worse and worse for having called. She shouldn't have. She should not have reached out. It would have only been another twenty minutes (plus the forty she had spent waiting for Regina, her mind reminded her) but she'd been so cold and she knew Regina would come for her. Emma hadn't known how much longer the tow truck would be, so she had called Regina. But now she felt guilty, felt uncomfortable, and finally she couldn't take the silence anymore.

"I'm okay now. I'm – I can wait for him," Emma said, reaching for the door handle. "It'll only be twenty minutes and-"

"Emma Swan," Regina said dangerously, reaching out and gripping Emma's arm, "you are  _not_  getting out of this vehicle."

She looked so severe that Emma's mouth snapped shut and she stayed quiet, removing her hand from the door handle. She had learnt from her childhood that the best thing to do when she had made someone angry was to just be quiet and make yourself as invisible as possible. So she sat still, didn't breathe another word, and fought her feelings of terrible discomfort.

When the tow truck  _finally_  arrived, Emma stayed in the car as per Regina's instructions, fighting hard to ignore the pain in her limbs, especially her toes, as her body finally started to thaw. Emma hoped she didn't have frost bite, wondered a little if she did, and to distract herself from the worry that she might have gotten it, she watched Regina yell at the man who was obviously in no mood for her lecture. They argued, but at least he worked as they did. When he finished, Regina stormed back to the car and slammed the door, looking to Emma with an angry expression.

"He'll tow it back to Storybrooke and you can pick up the car tomorrow."

Emma nodded, thanked her, and didn't ask any more questions. She stayed quiet until they pulled into town, a frown forming when she realised they were not headed to Mary Margaret's.

"Um, where are we going?"

"Home. My house. You're in no condition to be by yourself."

"Mary Margaret will be back soon, I'm sure-"

"When was the last time you spoke with her?"

"What? Um, not that long ago."

"How long?" Regina growled.

"Couple of days."

Regina was so angry she couldn't answer. She simply pulled into the driveway and parked. Henry scrambled out, and Emma exited slowly, her legs wobbly as she tried to stand. Regina was next to her in a second, and although she didn't touch her, Regina was ready should Emma's legs give out. Regina knew the woman was still half frozen; she was still shivering despite sitting in a heated car for an hour.

"Come on."

Regina led them into the house, telling Henry to get the kettle on and to make a hot tea.

"The electric kettle, not the stove top one."

Henry nodded. He was allowed to use the electric one, he knew, and he had no intention of grabbing the other. Henry worked quickly, tapping his fingers against his leg as he willed the water to boil faster. He had seen how frozen Emma was and he wanted to help warm her up as quickly as possible.

When the water was finally bubbling, he turned off the kettle and carefully poured the water into the mug, returning the kettle to the stand. He dropped the bag of tea into the steaming mug, stirring it a couple of times with a spoon before carefully walking it to the living room.

"I am not angry with you, Emma," Henry heard his mother say, but her voice did sound angry, "but I am furious with your choice not to call me. Now, sit still while I go and find the electric blanket. Drink your tea."

Emma was already bundled up on the couch, hidden under a mountain of covers. Henry smiled at his teacher, setting the mug in her hands and taking a seat next to her when his mom left.

"She's pretty pissed," Emma whispered.

"Yep. She doesn't like when the people she cares about aren't okay."

Emma frowned.

"I'm fine though."

"Eh," Henry shrugged. "Debatable. You still look like a popsicle. And it was kinda dumb not to call her when you broke down."

Emma gave him the stink eye, though Henry looked completely unfazed.

"It's true. You should have called."

"I didn't wanna bug you guys."

"We weren't doing anything. We were just hanging out."

Regina returned then, electric blanket in hand, and eyed Emma.

"Drink your tea, I said."

"I don't really like-" But Emma halted her words, seeing Regina's expression. "Yes, ma'am."

Emma took a sip (it was really hot, and not very good), wincing at both the taste and the heat. It felt good though, the burn warming her up. She took another sip, shivering heavily beneath the blanket.

"Still feeling cold?" Henry asked.

"Yeah. I know I'm not… frozen anymore, but I can't shake this chill."

Regina had inspected Emma's skin while Henry was in the kitchen, going over each finger and every single toe, looking at her face and neck.  _You're very lucky, Miss Swan. Your skin is cold but it doesn't appear to be frostbitten._  Emma had gotten frostbite enough as a kid that she knew what it felt like, but she was still glad Regina had looked her over and confirmed that she was okay. Emma had said she was fine, not wanting to upset the other woman more, but Regina had insisted on looking her over. Emma was grateful now, even if she was still feeling guilty.

"You were in the cold for hours, Emma. Thankfully, you had the sense to stay in your car. Whether or not you fall ill remains to be seen however."

Emma shivered in response.

"Pass me your mug."

Emma handed over the tea, rubbing her hands together. Regina set the mug down and removed Emma's blankets, wrapping her in the heated blanket before piling on the other covers again. She plugged in the blanket, setting it on medium now that Emma's skin had warmed up.

"Sit there for a few minutes and see if that helps. Henry, make sure miss Swan drinks the rest of her tea while I call the towing company to make sure all is in order."

Emma blushed. She felt like a child, but she'd be lying if it didn't feel at least a little nice to be taken care of. She had just planned on going home and taking a hot shower and lying in bed for the rest of the afternoon.

"Here," Henry said, handing over the mug. "Maybe we can convince mom to have a PJ party and we can watch movies. You can't really do much as a human burrito, but you can watch movies!"

"Is there h-heating in that room?" Emma teased, another shiver racing up her spine.

"You're still cold?" Henry asked, frowning.

Emma nodded.

"Yeah. Not sure why. It's like it's in my bones."

"Weird."

"It is, kid. It is."

Emma sipped her drink slowly, reluctantly admitting that it did help. It tasted bitter, gross (Emma was more used to sugary drinks) but at least she felt warmer inside. She felt like she was starting to thaw, but she hated that she still felt a little chilly. She had been cold a lot as a kid, staying in homes that were under heated (or simply had no heat at all), without the right type of protection. She had spent a lot of time shivering in the winter, piling on several layers and laying under thin blankets with her foster siblings in the hopes of warming up. The stint in her car this afternoon had reminded her of those times, and of the times she'd spent sleeping on park benches as a teenager, messing with her psyche even as she tried to tell herself she was safe now.

"Mom!" Henry exclaimed, when the woman returned. "Can we have a movie night?"

Regina looked at Emma for a moment before turning to her son.

"I'd like to speak to Emma first. Why don't you choose a movie we can all watch?"

"Okay."

The boy got up and left eagerly, Emma's stomach dropping like lead when they were alone. She had a feeling she was about to get yelled at.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

Regina's voice was even, almost like she was checking in rather than hinting that there was no apology needed.

"I'm intruding. I should go home. I really am okay. I just need to get home and get in a hot shower or-"

"You're intruding on nothing, Emma. I wish you would have called me as soon as you realised you were unable to reach Mary Margaret. I am glad that you called eventually though."

Emma stayed quiet, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry for getting so angry with you," Regina said, a bit of guilt bubbling up now that she had calmed down. "You scared me, and my fear often comes out in the form of anger. I wasn't angry with you for calling. I'm very, very glad that you did. I just wish you would have called earlier, before you risked catching your death.  _That_  is why I'm angry, because you didn't call sooner. And because you scared me."

"I don't like imposing," Emma said softly, looking down at her empty mug. "I was okay."

"You were nearly frozen stiff."

Emma shrugged.

"I was managing."

"Not very well though. You can reach out to me any time, you know. I'm always here for you."

Emma looked up then, and looked away.

"You don't have to do it all on your own."

"I'm good at doing things on my own."

"Yes, but it isn't necessary. Not when you have friends who are more than willing, who are  _happy_ , to help you when you need it. Would you not be happy to help me if I needed you?"

"You know I would be."

"Well, then. Do me a favour and call me when you need me."

"Do  _you_  the favour of calling when I need something?"

"Yes," Regina said firmly, looking her in the eyes. "Call me. Text me. Show up on my doorstep. Take out an ad in the paper. Do whatever you need to do to reach me, but please do not do this again. Don't wait until it gets bad again, okay?"

Emma took a deep breath, hesitating, before finally nodding.

"Okay," she said softly. "I won't."

"Good. Now," Regina said with a smile, holding out her hand, "shall we join Henry before he starts the movie without us?"

Emma smiled at her, reaching out and sliding their hands together.

"Sounds like a plan."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know.. I know! Every time I get a review, I say "I know! I know! I'm sorry!"
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience. I was single for 4 years, and finally met someone I liked. I've been having sex. Lots and lots of sex.
> 
> I'm not sorry.
> 
> Now, without further ado... chapter 16! 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

* * *

Regina glanced over at Emma for the third time in half an hour, the woman still bundled up and shivering beneath her blankets. She wasn't continually trembling, but she was regularly shivering next to Regina on the couch.

"Still cold?"

"I know I'm fine," Emma said back softly, "but I can't shake this chill. My blood feels cold."

Regina nodded, getting up off the couch. She left the theatre room and made her way into the storage closet, grabbing a pillow from her pile of spare bedding. She returned to the room, placing the pillow on the edge of the couch.

"Up," Regina said softly, smiling when Emma obeyed. She was aware of two sets of eyes on her as she first sat, then lay on the couch, beckoning Emma to join her. Emma stared, blinking, while Henry watched on curiously.

"Come," Regina said insistently, "share my body heat. This will warm you up."

"I…" Emma paused hesitantly, gripping the edge of her blanket with her fingers.

She was definitely not used to 'sharing body heat' with other people. It had been a long time since she'd done anything remotely close to sharing body heat with someone else. She was a loner who took care of herself and rarely developed close enough bonds with people to 'share body heat'.

Regina reached out and tugged on the corner of Emma's comforter, drawing her closer.

"I won't do anything untoward, miss Swan. We have an audience after all," Regina teased, looking over at Henry.

The boy smiled at her before turning away, feeling a little like he was intruding. So his mom was going to cuddle with his English teacher. He didn't know how he felt about that. Weirded out a little, maybe it was a bit strange, but he also was a little bit excited. Did his mom like miss Swan? His mom liked girls, and Emma had said she didn't discriminate. Maybe they could get together.  _Would that mean extra homework or more help with homework? Is it cool or lame for your mom to be dating your teacher? Does it make a difference if your mom is a teacher too?_

Henry frowned, deciding he no longer wanted to think about what it might mean if the two women got together. It was too much to consider, and he didn't want to overthink it. Especially because the idea made him just a little too excited.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?" Regina asked curiously.

"I dunno. Feels… weird."

"Would you like to keep shivering or would you like to warm up?"

Emma paused for another second, long enough for another shiver to race up her spine. She then took a deep breath before unravelling the comforter around her, placing it over Regina and climbing into the spot that had been cleared up for her: between the brunette's body and the back of the couch. She shifted onto one side, leaning up on her elbow as she contemplated how best to lay.

"Put your head here," Regina said, indicating her sternum. She pulled a little at her shirt, exposing more skin. "You want to feel the heat of my skin against yours to warm up properly."

Emma, still hesitant, did as she was told. She rested her cheek against Regina's skin, her head tucked under the woman's chin, her body coming to press against the brunette's side. Regina reached out and grabbed her forearm, pulling it to wrap securely around her waist. Emma was, for all intents and purposes, cuddled around Regina's side. She could feel the heat radiating from the other woman, and she heaved a sigh of delight when Regina pulled on the comforter and draped it over her back.

Emma was bundled up in a cocoon of warmth, and she felt her eyelids droop when Regina began slowly rubbing her back. This was nice, this 'sharing body heat', and Emma realised if this is what happened when she was cold, she might never want to warm back up.

"'m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that," she said, snuggling in closer to Regina's side.

"It's alright," Regina said, the sound of her voice rumbling low in her chest.

Emma's eyes drifted shut a few seconds later, the rhythmic sound of Regina's heartbeat and the softness of the woman's body quickly relaxing her and putting her to sleep.

* * *

Regina awoke some time later to the sound of the welcome screen of The Avengers DVD. She frowned, her mind foggy and still half asleep as she tried to blink away her grogginess. She groped around for the remote, thinking it was the sounds of the television that had woken her, until her fingers encountered softness pressed up against her side. Regina realised there was an unnatural weight on her chest, quickly remembering that miss Swan had fallen asleep on her earlier. Regina made a move to shift away, but immediately paused when the movement caused Emma to whimper. The blonde shook her head, drawing Regina's eyes, and buried her face in Regina's breast.

"No," Emma pleaded softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Regina immediately reached up, stroked Emma's hair, the sound of the slumbering woman's broken voice tugging at her heart. Emma sounded scared, so Regina scratched at her scalp while she shushed her softly in the hopes that she would comfort her in her sleep. It was only when Regina went to move Emma's hair from her face that she felt wetness on the woman's cheek.

"Oh, Emma," Regina soothed, heart constricting at the thought that she'd been crying in her sleep. "It's okay, sweetie. Shh, you're safe."

Emma shifted, feeling something soft against her body. She startled then, ripping away from the body beneath her. She leapt from the couch, nearly tumbling onto her knees as she tried to disentangle herself from the blankets.

"You're okay, Emma. It's Regina. We were lying on the couch in my home." Regina said calmly, reassuring Emma the way she did Henry after he had a nightmare. She shifted on the couch, keeping the comforter bundled on her lap as she leaned forward to speak to Emma. "We fell asleep during the movie. Do you remember now?"

Emma swallowed hard, eyes locked on Regina like a lifeline. Regina smiled softly at her, watching as Emma's breathing slowly returned to normal. She finally nodded then, exhaling deeply.

"Good," Regina said, relieved that Emma seemed to come back to her. "You've had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Emma begged, "Please."

"Okay, shh. It's okay. Come here."

Emma did as requested, unable to resist the offer for comfort from someone she felt so at peace with. She was scared, mind overwhelmed with memories of her life before Storybrooke, before escaping the system, before she was safe.

Safe.

Ha.

Even as an adult, even with all the self-defence courses, all the combat classes, all the therapy, all the walls and the locks on her doors and the distance between herself and the world, she still didn't feel safe. She never feels safe, but here in Regina's arms, well, she doesn't feel quite as scared.

"You're alright now, Emma. Nothing will hurt you here."

Emma burrowed further in Regina's embrace, closed her eyes, breathed deeply as she took in the woman's familiar scent, enjoying the feel of her fingers in her hair.

It was soothing, comforting, loving. Emma should have been terrified to be this close to someone. She never let anyone get this close. Never allowed herself to be this vulnerable because she knows what happens next: she gets hurt. She always kept her guard up, but she couldn't help leaning closer to Regina then, couldn't help absorbing the warmth the woman was giving her after such a horrifying nightmare. Always the same ones, where she's back at one of her foster homes, the sound of her foster dad's belt unbuckling either because he's going to hit her with it… or because worse things are going to happen to her. Or sometimes they're weird ones, like the one where she's at the train station waiting for someone, she's been sitting on a bench for what seems like forever and then finally a train comes, and it is coming so fast, too fast, and then it stops so suddenly and she gets up, but she can't get to it, can never get to it, no matter how hard and how fast she runs, and then the train leaves after just a few seconds and she's alone on the platform again. Sometimes her dreams are actually memories, ones she's long ago buried, memories that return to her after she wakes up.

She hated those nightmares.

Emma looked over at Henry, who is passed out cold on the floor, taking in his baby face, his tiny build, the way he looks so peaceful and vulnerable and trusting. And she wondered how someone had been able to do the things they'd done to her at his age, or when she was even younger, wondered how they could do that to a  _child_ , and suddenly the tears started anew.

Christmas was always a difficult time, and right now, Emma hurt. She ached, and she just wanted this entire holiday to be over.  _This_  was why she secluded herself, why she stayed away from happy homes with big Christmas trees and lights and gifts and stockings hung up. It just served as another reminder of how lonely she was, how alone, and reminded her of everything she'd missed in her life, everything she missed each and every year because she had no family. And worst of all, it brought back memories she'd long ago banished. She was an orphan, and these happy homes were just big, neon signs reminding her of the fact that no one considered her part of their family.

Emma bit her lip to keep the sob at bay, fighting to keep it in her chest as she stared blankly at the wall ahead of her.

Regina pulled at Emma on the couch, tugging her closer, rubbing her back, speaking softly in her ear as she felt the woman tremble in her arms. She wondered what the hell Emma had been dreaming about that had gotten her so upset, but Emma refused to tell. Emma squeezed her eyes shut against her questions, and so Regina stopped asking, not wanting Emma to feel pressured or forced to open up. Instead, Regina simply held her close, rocking her, vowing that she would one day get Emma to open up, to finally tell her more about her past.

* * *

Emma returned home the next day and spent the rest of the Christmas holiday avoiding everyone, especially Regina. Mary Margaret hadn't home for the first few days, was gone and Emma didn't know where, so she took advantage of her absence to hide in her room undisturbed. Emma stayed hidden away, eating chips, white rice, snack cakes, and finally soda crackers when she had nothing else, feeling too unmotivated to even go to the grocery to get food.

The night at Regina's had disturbed her. The nightmare had bothered her, sure, but she'd had plenty of nightmares in the past and they didn't affect her like this. No. What had bothered Emma was how much she  _liked_  being in Regina's arms, being held by her, how much comfort she drew from Regina. Her feelings scared her, words like 'safe' and 'loving' and 'warm' floating in her head when she thought of the brunette. Those words made her belly tingle, but they also made her go cold with fear.

She was getting too close to Regina, so close that she could feel her guard slipping. It had slipped last night. She had shown a part of herself to Regina that she hadn't shown to anyone in a very, very long time. She had also allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of Regina, had  _cried_  in front of her, had let the other woman soothe her. And what was worse, Regina had actually managed to comfort her, had made her feel better and safer and less scared. Emma was getting attached, she was starting to form a bond with the other woman that she hadn't expected to. And that terrified her.

Things needed to change.

She was getting too close to Regina. And the only thing that closeness like that brought was heartache and pain and disappointment. Those were three emotions Emma was  _very_  familiar with, among many others that Emma wanted desperately to avoid. She wanted a friend, yes, a friend in Regina, and maybe more even, but she didn't want this- this-  _dependence_ on her. She didn't want this emotional connection to form with Regina, one where she began to  _need_  Regina to feel better. That only brought on pain. It frightened her to get that close again to someone, terrified her actually, but the thought of losing Regina ached in her heart as well. She liked Regina, liked her a lot in fact. And as terrified as she was, part of her wanted to get closer to her too.

Maybe it would be nice to be close to her. Regina seemed safe. But then so many others had felt safe too. Emma fought tears, rolling in her bed and burying her head in her pillow. She was so confused, her head at war with her heart and her gut. Memories of past friendships and relationships reminding her of  _why_  she was better off alone, why she needed to stay away from Regina's safety and comfort. Because those things only stayed for so long before they were ripped away. Nothing safe and comforting like that ever stayed permanently in Emma's life.

Emma didn't emerge from her room until Monday morning, when she had no choice, because it was the first day of school. When she inevitably saw Regina, Emma took a deep breath, reinforced the walls of the fortress around her heart, her soul, just as she'd been practising in her room, and she forced a smile. She made small talk, pretended she had a great rest of Christmas, told Regina that she had been visiting people and that she was sorry, that she hadn't meant to ignore her, that she wished she could have seen her too. That yes she had seen her texts and had meant to respond, but she'd gotten side tracked by the visits she'd made to friends.

Emma continued the conversation, voice light, but her heart ached the entire time. It ached and it ached and she wanted desperately to reach out to Regina, to tell her she hurt. That she was hurting. Because seeing Regina just reminded her of that night on the couch, the first night in  _years_  (or even a decade, if she really thought about it) anyone had ever comforted Emma after a nightmare. Seeing Regina reminded her of all the times she had cried herself back to sleep or had simply not slept at all. It reminded her of what she was missing, of what safety and warmth and kindness were, but she couldn't do that. She couldn't let herself be vulnerable like that. Not until she could figure out a way to be Regina's friend and not  _need_  her the way she felt she needed her now. Emma never should have accepted Regina's comfort after that nightmare. She should have figured out how to be strong on her own, like she always did.

Because one day, Regina would leave her. They always left her. And Emma couldn't let herself become dependent on Regina. She wanted to be her friend, but she couldn't need her. She couldn't need anyone but herself. So she'd put a little distance between her and Regina while she tried to put a little distance between her heart and Regina.

* * *

By day two at school, Regina had confirmation now that she was being avoided. She suspected after Emma had stopped responding to her texts the day after they'd cuddled on the couch that something was off, but she had hoped that giving the woman some time would help (after all, she did know that Emma was fled when she was scared- Emma had confessed that to her). However, she had hoped that seeing Emma at school, speaking to her, would set things straight.

How wrong she was. Now, Regina knew for sure Emma was avoiding her. And what was worse, seeing each other didn't seem to help. Emma was still avoiding her. She knew the feeling well; most teachers in this school avoided the hell out of her. And that was fine, it didn't bother her. Usually. But this was different. She was friends with Emma. They had called a truce. They had said they were good. After that night on the couch, Regina had felt some hope that maybe Emma would finally open up to her, would finally talk to her, speak about her life, her past. But the opposite had happened: she'd pulled away.

Emma had begun avoiding Regina immediately after returning home that night, not answering her texts or calls. Regina had let her be, had allowed her the space she figured Emma would need (even though it had admittedly hurt a little), but she thought that once they returned to work, once Emma had had some time, things would change.

So Regina had been looking forward to returning to the school. However, Regina quickly realised Emma was not keeping with their usual routine. She wasn't in the lunchroom. Ever. She wasn't been in her classroom at breaks, she was going the long way around the school in order to avoid the Spanish Immersion wing. She was leaving early and coming in a few minutes late to work. For the next few days Regina did her best to try and catch Emma, to see her, but Emma was like a slippery snake, able to wiggle away before Regina got a grip on her.

By the end of the week, even Henry noticed, pointing out that Emma was different, no longer smiled like she used to, that she didn't come around anymore to Regina's classroom like she had before Christmas break.

Normally, Regina respected when someone stated they wanted to be left alone (and she had, she had given Emma her space), but there was something different about this. Seeing Emma, it felt different. She felt it in her gut that she needed to reach out to her, that something was wrong and that she wasn't being avoided because of her, but because of something that was going on with Emma.

Regina never ignored her gut instinct. So she persevered, texting Emma frequently despite receiving no engaging responses (if she got one at all), smiling brightly at her even as Emma ducked away.

Henry tried as well, deciding it was going to be one of his "Operations" to try to get Emma to come back around. The pair tried every day to engage Emma, who would smile at them (which did not reach her eyes), engage in small talk (about the weather, the upcoming school activities). She never gave anything more than the very basics, though. They continued on, determined, and it was Henry who approached his mother two weeks into the month of January with the perfect idea to advance his Operation.

"My birthday?" Regina asked incredulously.

"Yeah. We should have a party. We could invite Emma."

"Henry, we're not having a party for my birthday. I'm not seven."

"No, you're gonna be thirty-"

"Don't you say it out loud!"

"-five."

"I'm selling you to the circus."

"You can't sell me to the circus. That's illegal."

"Ya veras."

Henry rolled his eyes.

"I want to throw a party, but I'm only ten. I can ask Emma to help me. And then she'll come. And you guys can talk about why she's sad. And I can see her too. I miss her."

"I know you miss her, Henry, but I'm not going to resort to extortion."

"It's been like a month, mom, and she's not giving up."

"It has not yet been a month."

"Feels like it. Feels even longer than a month."

Regina could not argue that.

"It's time to up our game, mom."

"Up our game, huh?"

"Yes. Emma's sad. She doesn't smile anymore like she used to, and when she thinks no one is looking, she just… she gets this sad look on her face and she just looks so lonely. She didn't look like that when you guys were friends."

"Henry, it's much more complicated than that."

"But it would be less complicated if you talked, right?"

Regina sighed.

"She might not even come."

"I'll make sure she does."

Regina shook her head. She hadn't meant for Henry to get involved, but she had to admit it was helpful to have him around. He saw Emma a lot more because she was his teacher (it was hard to avoid the kid in your own class, though Emma was surprisingly good at it), but he was coming up empty as well. Maybe it  _was_  time to 'up their game'.

"Come on, mom. We need to do this."

Regina sighed again. Henry was right that it had been three weeks now that she hadn't properly spoken to Emma, unable to catch her alone long enough to actually pull more than a few words from her. She had to admit to herself that she was getting desperate. She had already tried showing up at Mary Margaret's on a day where she was feeling particularly motivated to speak to Emma (Regina had been that desperate that she had actually swallowed her loathing for the other woman and gone to her house for the very first time), but she had been quickly rejected. Despite doing her best to intimidate Mary Margaret, Regina had not been successful, and short of breaking into the home (she hadn't completely ruled out this idea either), she saw no other way of speaking to Emma other than to tie her up to a chair. Which she wasn't going to do.

Probably.

Regina didn't want to corner her, didn't want to  _force_  her by any physical means, but she had to admit that maybe she was desperate enough to fall back on a little bit of emotional manipulation. Was it bad to manipulate someone if you were trying to do it to help them in the long run?

Regina shook her head. She was thinking too much.

"Fine. If you can get her to come,  _without forcing her_ , then you may throw me a party and enlist the aid of miss Swan."

Henry grinned widely. He already had a plan.

The next morning, he got up early and got ready for school, showing up to class before the bell. Emma never showed up early anymore, but he was too eager to speak to his teacher. He couldn't wait, so he arrived early and sat at his desk, watched Miss Swan come in (his hands shaking with eagerness to carry out his latest idea for his Operation. He really,  _really_  wanted this to work. He missed Emma, the old Emma, so very much. It hurt his heart how much he missed her). Henry did his best to pay attention during the lesson, and when the bell rang, he immediately sprinted to the front of the class as his peers left the room.

"Henry, you should get going. You'll be late for your next class."

"No, it's recess now. Besides, it's almost the end of the day and I won't miss that much. I have to talk to you."

"Can it wait? I have to go do something."

"You can hide from me later. Right now, I have something important to talk to you about."

The boy looked so earnest that Emma could not turn him away. She nodded instead, sighing internally as she braced herself to speak to the little boy who had nestled his way into her heart so long ago. At least with him, there was a different feeling in her heart. She liked him a lot, she thought a part of him maybe even loved Henry, but she didn't feel the same emotional connection with him like she did his mother. He was safer.

"I'm having a birthday party for my mom, but I need your help."

"My help? Why?"

"Because I can't buy all the stuff by myself. I need an adult to bring me to the store. The people won't let me be there by myself without an adult, so I need you to come," Henry said, thinking back on the points he had made for his argument. He had practised these all last night, getting ready for this conversation. "I have money, and I can buy the decorations and the cake, but it can't be very big because I'm only ten and I don't have  _that_  much money, but I need a car. To bring me to the store and to bring back all the things I need. And you know my mom, and you like her. You could help me pick the right decorations and help me choose a theme. It's going to be a lot of work and I've never planned a party, and I thought maybe you could help me."

Henry blinked up at her, hoping he sounded hopeful (and cute) enough that she would give in.

Emma hesitated before finally shaking her head.

"Hen, I'd like to, but this really isn't my place. Your mom and I are colleagues, nothing more. You should get your mom's friends or family to help-"

"You  _are_  her friend. You guys used to hang out all the time and talk all the time. Or at least you did until you started avoiding us," Henry muttered, a little bit of hurt bubbling in his chest. "I don't know why you don't like us anymore."

"Whoa, hey. Who says I don't like you anymore? Of course I like you, Henry."

"You don't like my mom anymore though. Or me."

"What? I never said that-"

"You didn't have to," Henry argued, the hurt rising up and filling his chest.

He tried to calm down, tried to push down his feelings like he had been for the last couple of weeks, but he could feel his emotions taking over.

This was not part of the plan.

He was supposed to get her to come to the party without yelling at her, but now that he was speaking to the woman who had been avoiding him for so long, he couldn't contain his feelings. He didn't know what was going on (and his mother's 'it's a grown up problem that Emma has, Henry, one which you will understand when you're older' didn't help him understand any better). What he did know though, was that he was upset, he was hurt, and he'd been imagining talking to her for weeks. Now that he opportunity had presented itself, he was overcome with his emotions, unable to keep them from controlling the direction of their conversation, unable to keep from spilling out what he had been holding inside.

"You never talk to her anymore. You never come over. You don't look at me in class. You run away when she tries to talk to you. You never smile at us in class anymore and you avoid me and my mom like- like we have a disease or something.

"I don't know why you don't like us anymore, Emma," Henry repeated, making fists with his hands in order to stave off the waves of hurt inside of him. This was so not going according to plan. He needed to leave now or else he was going to cry. And he really didn't want to do that. "I don't know what she did, or I did, but I miss you. And-" Henry took a deep breath. He was losing badly in the fight against his emotions. He hurt, a lot, and he needed to get away. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I asked."

"Henry-"

But before she could say anything else, Henry took off running.

Henry ended up going home sick, citing a sore stomach. Regina enlisted the help of her mother (who berated her for sending a sick child to school), and Henry was brought home promptly after his conversation with Emma. He stayed curled up beneath a blanket on the couch in the living room, letting his grandmother fuss over him as he did his best to ignore the way his belly churned. He felt like he had swallowed a hairball, like there was a knot in his throat, and his eyes burned from trying to keep from crying. He managed to calm himself after a couple of hours, blinking back tears (and wiping away the ones that escaped), remaining in his bed until his mother got home.

Henry waited until he heard her familiar footsteps, straining to hear his mother's voice as she and his grandmother spoke at the front entrance. A door closed then, and he heard his mother's soothing voice calling for him. He was ashamed that her presence caused a sudden wave of tears to spring to his eyes, unable to respond to her call. When she walked into the room and sat down next to him, rubbing his back and saying his name so soothingly, he burst into tears.

"Oh, Henry. Come here," Regina said softly, pulling her son into her arms. "It's okay, sweetheart."

Henry shook his head, sniffling as he tried valiantly to fight off his tears.

"What happened at school today?" Regina asked gently.

They hadn't had the chance to talk. She'd been called away from her class, Henry only muttering that he'd talked to Emma and that he didn't feel well anymore. After seeing just how devastated he looked, hearing his voice- 'just a heart ache, mom' and 'I'm okay, but I don't… I'm sad' - she had made the decision to send him home. Regina was not one to promote skipping school, but she knew her son, and she knew he needed some time to himself to work through whatever had happened today at school. Plus, secretly, Regina felt unbelievably guilty, feeling she was at fault for sending her son rather than speaking to Emma herself, so she'd sent him home as an apology for enlisting his help. She should not have done that, shouldn't have asked that of her son. And Regina felt overwhelming guilt for her poor decision.

"I tried talking to her, but I got… I got upset. I tried not to, but I just couldn't stop it. I couldn't help it, mom, it just all came out," he confessed, chin wobbling against her shoulder.

"What all came out?"

"Everything I've been feeling."

"What have you been feeling?" she asked gently, rubbing his back.

"She just… shut us out. She stopped liking us, and she stopped caring," Henry said, unable to keep the tears at bay. "I don't know why, mom. Why did she just stop caring about us? She doesn't even smile at me anymore."

Tears sprang to Regina's eyes as Henry spoke, the hurt and pain in his voice physically hitting Regina like a punch to the gut. She  _felt_  his pain like her own, worse than her own, and she was suddenly irate with Emma Swan. She had been feeling compassionate, understanding, knowing that the woman was going through a tough time, but when it came to her son, her protective instincts came flaring out. And so she was angry. She was angry with Emma, but also with herself for not protecting him better and seeing how upset he was by all of this. He had seemed okay, motivated even, trying to get Emma to come back around. She hadn't realised he had been so deeply affected by her distance.

"Have you been keeping this all to yourself, my precious boy?"

Henry sniffled, not responding.

"Why didn't you tell me you were so upset, sweetheart?"

"You were already sad. I didn't want to make it worse."

Regina didn't know that a heart could shatter in one's chest.

"Oh, my dear, sweet boy." Regina pulled away, cupping his cheek as she looked him in the eye. "I never  _ever_  want you to keep things like that to yourself, okay? I'm so sorry you've been hurting like this, Henry." She pulled him close, guilt consuming her. "I'm always here for you to speak to, mijo. Don't keep things like this to yourself. You can always come to me."

Henry simply nodded.

They stayed on the couch, Henry curled up in his mother's arms, Regina holding her son tight, until the doorbell rang. Regina made no move to get up, and when the bell rang again, Henry pulled away slightly.

"You're not going to answer the door?"

"No," Regina responded.

"Why not?"

"I'm busy with my son. Whoever it is can wait or can come back."

"What if it's important?"

"There is  _no one_ more important to me than you, Henry Mills."

Henry smiled. He knew that was true.

"Still. You should get it. I'll be okay for a minute."

Regina looked at him for a long moment before finally giving a single nod, getting up and heading to the door with purpose. She would send away whoever it was and then return to cuddle her son for as long as it took for him to feel better. She yanked open the door, already irritated that someone was interrupting her time with her son, voice catching in her throat as she stood face to face with the reason her son had been crying in the living room.

"Hey," Emma said softly, her voice weak. "How's Henry?"

"Suddenly you're interested?"

Emma looked down at her feet instead of responding. She tucked her hands in her pockets and shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what to say.

"He's certainly not the happy-go-lucky little boy I sent off to school this morning. What did you say to him that caused him to cry on my shoulder the second I walked in the door?"

Guilt marred Emma's features, the woman ducking her head lower. She'd been feeling absolutely horrible ever since Henry had broken down in her classroom, unable to think or concentrate on anything, the sound of Henry's cries stuck in her head. She knew she needed to shelve her own feelings and come and see Henry, to make sure he was okay after such an emotional breakdown.

"Mom?"

Both women reacted instantly, eyes snapping over to the young boy with red-rimmed eyes, bodies turned towards him.

"Emma?"

"Hey, kid. You okay?"

Henry shrugged.

"Go back in the house, Henry. Miss Swan was just leaving."

Henry shook his head, slowly stepping onto the front porch.

"Why are you here?" he asked, looking up at his teacher.

"I came to check on you. I was worried."

"Why? You don't like us anymore. You're not worried."

"Oh, Hen," Emma said softly, her heart squeezing in her chest as she crouched down before him. "I don't not like you guys, kid. I like you guys a lot actually." Emma glanced up at Regina. "A lot."

Regina looked away.

"Then why don't you talk to us anymore?"

Regina didn't stop his questions. He had a right to answers after being so hurt. But the truth was, Regina also wanted to know why Emma had been avoiding her so determinedly.

Tears welled up in Emma's eyes. This emotional running away thing wasn't working very well. It worked so well in the past, with everyone else. Why couldn't she seem to keep her walls up around these two? Why did they rip them down so effortlessly?

"We need to talk," Henry said, pleading with his mother. "Please, mom. Can Emma come in? We need to talk. You know we do."

Regina sighed down at her son, unable to resist him when he pleaded with her that way. She looked up at Emma, whose eyes looked so dark and pained. They suddenly lost the glossiness they'd been holding for the last two weeks. They were unguarded yet again, and Regina found herself lost in the depth of Emma's haunted eyes. There was so much story in them, so much Regina knew was kept in there, and when Emma blinked, Regina finally nodded.

"Are you willing to finally talk, Emma?" Regina asked, wearily. She was tired of all of this, emotionally drained from the afternoon, as well as the last two weeks with Emma.

"I… I don't know."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who read my other story, you will know that I mentioned someone close to me was dying. She has since passed (about a month and a half ago), and I have been in mourning since. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things again, to move forward, and I appreciate your patience and understanding. I'm still struggling greatly, but I'm trying to get back to my old habits. I'm not sure how regularly I'll be updating, but on my good days, I will write for you.
> 
> Thank you to those of you who have been sending me messages of support and a big thank you to everyone for being so patient with me.

“I… I don’t know.”

Henry looked up at Emma.

“You could try. Mom says to always try your best and that’s all you can do. So you could try.”

Emma smiled down at Henry’s innocent face, her heart constricting as she took in his slightly reddened eyes.

“Yeah, kid. I can try.”

Henry nodded in approval, leading the way into the house. Regina turned to Emma the second Henry was out of earshot, voice sharp with warning.

“You _will not_ hurt him, Emma Swan. I did not spend the entire day worried, texting my distraught child, and the last hour comforting my son for you to come in and undo it all. He is finally calm, and you will not hurt him, so help me God.”

Emma nodded, understanding. She missed the kind, comforting Regina, missed the sweet, loving Regina, but Emma tried not to let this angry-Regina get to her. She had hurt the woman’s son, it only made sense Regina would come at her, claws out. It was what a good mother did. Emma wouldn’t know, had never been that lucky, but she understood it was what a loving, protective mother did. And so she tried to not take it to heart. Instead, she heeded her warning and assured her she wasn’t here to hurt Henry.

“Good,” Regina said curtly, entering first into the house.

Regina led the way into the living room, sitting down next to Henry and nodding towards the chair next to her. She'd allow Emma to speak to her son, but she put herself between the two, just in case.

“Hey,” Emma said, a little awkwardly. It felt uncomfortable having Regina next to her, eyes boring into her. She wished she were alone with Henry, but since that wasn’t going to happen, she tried her best to speak normally. “How are you?”

She winced.

“Sorry,” Emma immediately apologised. “I know how you are. I can see it. You were crying, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I don’t like that you cried. And I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, Hen. It just…” Emma blew a deep breath of air out. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at- uh- having friends. Not too good at being a friend. But when you said I didn’t like you, well, that I guess hit me pretty hard. I didn’t mean for you to get that impression, Henry. I like you, a lot. And I still care about you very much.”

“Then why don’t you smile at me anymore?” Henry asked, still hurt. “Why don’t you ever visit? Why don’t I ever see you anymore?”

“I honestly never noticed I don’t smile anymore at you, kid. And I’m sorry about that. It has nothing to do with you or- or with me not liking you. I guess I’ve just been a little bit sad lately and I didn’t realise I wasn’t smiling at you anymore. I’ve just been… in my own head lately and not very good company for anyone. I’ve been pretty sad.” 

“Why are you sad?” Henry asked.

Emma hesitated, glancing at Regina before looking back at Henry. She felt uncomfortable, wished once again they were alone, but she pushed down the feeling and spoke.

“Christmas always makes me sad, and I get a little depressed. There’s a lot of stuff from when I was a kid that eats away at me at Christmas time, and I guess I didn’t do a very good job of hiding it from you, kid, and I’m sorry about that.”

“But it’s way past Christmas and you still aren’t… you still don’t talk to me. Or my mom.”

“It’s been complicated this year.”

“Why?”

Emma hesitated.

“It just has been, kid.”

He didn’t need to know that this year, on December 20th , would mark 30 years since she’d been given back by the first family she’d ever loved. That anniversary haunted her, every year. Had tainted Christmas for her every year since. And with every year that past and she was still without a family, without people who loved her, without people she trusted to care about her, well… it just served as a reminder that she was unwanted. Unloved. And 30 years of it now, well, it had just been too much. And then that night with Regina, with how good it had felt to actually be held… it had pushed her over the edge. It had been a hellish almost two months, and Emma had been just barely surviving. And every time Regina reached out, Emma _wanted_ to respond. But she couldn’t. She just… she couldn’t.

Henry sat back, unsatisfied with her answer. But Regina, she could read something there. Now that she was actually watching Emma, actually observing her, she saw just how ragged she looked. She'd lost weight, her eyes were sunken in, she was obviously not sleeping, her shoulders hunched in on herself. Her nails were mangled, obviously from being chewed so badly. She looked… well, she looked like shit, and Regina hadn’t noticed before. Not that she could have anyways because Emma hadn’t let her get close enough to. Emma had ducked around every corner when they happened to cross paths, had taken off at every lunch, had made herself scarce any time they had a moment free from class. Now that Regina was finally able to see her colleague, her friend, she realised that Emma was just a shell of who she used to be. She looked like she had stopped taking care of herself completely, looked like she had even stopped going to the gym, her most favourite activity.

 There was a lot more to this story, Regina knew, as there always was when it came to Emma. When she saw just how much Emma was curling in on herself, while still trying to smile at Henry, Regina decided to finally take pity on the woman and speak up. She was angry with Emma, livid with her for hurting Henry, but she still cared about Emma, and it was obvious the woman was in a bad place.

“We all have bad years, bad times of year, and while we may not react in the best of ways, it doesn’t mean we can’t be forgiven for our poor choices.”

Emma looked at Regina, heart racing. She'd been scared, worried about this conversation. Sure that Regina would skin her alive. But that comment… it almost sounded nice. Forgiving.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, Henry,” Regina continued, interrupting Emma’s thoughts, “that sometimes adults make mistakes. We don't always have all the answers, and sometimes we make the wrong choice. Emma chose poorly these last few weeks. Rather than coming to see her friends, rather than reaching out, she decided to keep everything to herself and she hurt the people around her, the people who love her (Regina looked up at Emma for this part, meeting her eye before looking back down at her son). But she didn’t mean to, and I’m sure she’s very sorry ( _I am-_ came Emma’s voice). We all have motivations for the choices we make- whether it be fear, self-preservation, confusion, or one of the other endless possibilities. And perhaps it’s just because we don’t know _how_ to ask or to reach out.” Emma glanced away at this sentence, something that did not go unnoticed by Regina. “Regardless of the reason, it’s important that friends communicate, say how they feel, and then forgive each other.

“Now, while she did hurt you, Emma didn’t _have_ to tell you anything that was going on. She didn’t have to tell anyone, including me. But, she was brave and she did tell you that she’s been feeling sad and she apologised for hurting you. She was honest about her feelings because she cares about you and I think we all learnt a little bit more about each other. And while it caused some hurt, I think in the end, it’s going to create a closer and stronger bond between you two because now you know things about each other that you didn’t before. Do you agree, mijo?”

Henry nodded.

“Me too. And now that you know how Emma has been feeling, I think it’s your turn. I think she’d like to know what’s been going on with you too, how you’ve felt these last few weeks. Have you told Emma how it hurt you to be pushed away?”

Henry shrugged.

“A little.”

Regina nodded.

“But there’s a lot more to be said.”

Henry glanced at Emma before looking down at his hands, silent.

“I’d like to know what happened, Hen. How you felt. I think it’s important you tell me.”

Henry’s hurt was suddenly replaced with guilt, because now he knew Emma did care about him. And if she cared, then she would probably feel bad if he was honest. And he didn’t want her to hurt anymore. He didn’t want her to be sad anymore.

“Mijo? What’s wrong?”

Regina had noticed Henry’s struggle, knew there was something heavy going on in his overthinking brain.

“I don’t want anyone to feel worse,” he finally whispered.

Regina looked over at Emma as the woman moved forward to kneel before Henry.

“Henry, look at me please. What you felt before, and what you’re feeling right now, it’s important that you tell me. I need to hear it and you need to get it off your chest and out of your head, okay? Because if you don’t get it out, it’s gonna stay in you and grow and get bigger, until it eventually explodes inside of you. Trust me, I know.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you more.”

“You’re such a sweet kid,” Emma started, guilt bubbling inside of her. She didn’t deserve this kind of sweet, thoughtful child in her life. She cast that thought aside though as she continued, “but you didn’t cause this mess. I did. So if what you says maybe hurts a little, it’s my own fault, okay? Not yours. You don’t need to protect me. I’m supposed to protect you but I didn’t do a very good job these last couple of months,” Emma said, her voice cracking, “and I’m really sorry for that. But I would really like you to be honest with me. Okay? I think you need to tell me what happened so you can move forward.”

Henry stared into Emma’s eyes, searching them. She looked honest. She looked like she really did wanna know. Henry hesitated for a moment as he contemplated opening up to his favourite teacher, debated trusting her again, before finally giving into his desire to be honest with her.

“It hurt,” he finally said, looking down at his hands before glancing back up to Emma. “A lot. It felt like you didn’t like me anymore. Or didn’t care. I tried not to care too but-” When his lower lip began quivering again, Henry abruptly stopped speaking.

Emma, no longer able to resist, immediately reached out. She grabbed Henry and pulled him onto her lap on the floor, holding him tighter than she probably should have been but she didn’t care. She knew what this was like, knew what it was like to be hurt by someone, by an adult you loved and trusted, to be cast aside and feel ignored, unwanted, unloved. She knew what it was like to be rejected and she immediately broke down in tears as she realised she had become that person to Henry, had become _that_ adult. Like the ones from her childhood.

Emma hugged him harder, tightly, pressing her cheek to his head as she slowly rocked him.

“I am _so_ sorry, Henry. I had no idea. I was selfish and didn’t think of anyone but my own feelings. I shouldn’t have done that. I care about you so much, kid. So, so much. You mean so much to me. And I never meant to hurt you. I was going through some stuff, but I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

Emma trembled as she tried to get a grip on her feelings. She was so bad at this. So bad. She didn’t know how to be someone’s friend, how to let people in, didn’t know how to be honest with them. She was good at keeping people at a distance. And she did, for her own good. But also for theirs. Because she did this a lot. Hurt people. Not purposefully, but because she didn’t know how to let them in. Didn’t really want to let them in. Because then she’d get hurt by them too. She had learnt this early in life. That people were untrustworthy, unreliable, unpredictable. One day, they were your friend and the next they’d throw you under a bus if it benefitted them. And sometimes even if it didn’t.

So Emma had learnt that it was better, safer, to keep people at a distance to protect herself and when she got in these moods where she needed to… _run_ … no one else was affected. No one else got hurt. By being a loner, staying a loner, she was safer and she wasn’t accountable to anyone but herself. But… it was also lonely. She craved companionship, envied people who had close friends, friends they’d known their entire lives, who knew everything about one another, who would walk down the street and laugh together, who ‘had each other’s backs’ so to speak. Emma wanted those things too, and so here in Storybrooke, well, she had made a few ties. It hadn’t been on purpose. It had… sort of just happened. And it was nice. And then she thought, maybe, well, maybe she could settle down here finally. She was getting older. Maybe she could try to settle down and stop running. Maybe try to make friends with whom she could laugh and share stories and have the kind of relationship she saw in movies.

It had been nice, for a while, having friends. But then the walls had started closing in on her and as much as she wanted to reach out, she hadn’t known how. Hadn’t felt safe enough to. So she had run. And this was the result: Henry holding fast to her body, clutching to her as Emma gently rocked him in her lap. He cried into her shoulder, and Emma could feel her heart constricting.

She had caused this. She had caused this pain and heartache to such a sweet, sensitive boy. And as Emma worked through her feelings, she realised she had to make a decision. She had to make a choice now: she could either sever ties for good, pack her belongings and move to a new town where she knew no one. Leave Henry with Regina, who would take care of him Emma knew, and eventually Henry would get over it. He would move on. But maybe it would scar him, make him harder, but he would survive. Her instinct told her to do this, to follow this path, the one she’d taken her entire life.

Or she could stay, try to mend things with Henry, like her heart was telling her to do. She could try to repair the damage she had done to their relationship. She could make it up to Henry, and she knew he would forgive her, children were much more forgiving than sometimes the people who hurt them deserved. So Henry would forgive her, Emma knew, but Regina- Emma glanced over to the woman who was currently wiping at her eyes- Regina might be a different story. While her comment earlier had seemed nice, and indicated possible forgiveness, she might have just been saying such nice things for Henry’s sake.

Emma knew Regina had had a lot of hurt in her life. Regina was much more guarded, had a shell that was much tougher to crack, and so she might not forgive Emma. Not that Emma deserved to be forgiven. She had hurt them both deeply, and she knew that it was possible that Regina might never trust her again, despite how much Emma tried to make it up to her.

But, the more Emma thought and the longer she sat there with Henry in her arms, the more she realised it was a risk she was willing to take. She cared deeply about these two people, people she had been starting to consider family, and she owed it to them to put aside her desire to run, her instinct to flee, and try to make amends. Try to make up for what she did. She owed it to them, wanted to do it for them, and, she realised, a little part of herself wanted to stick around for herself too.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you following Movie Night, that will be my next update. I need to re-read the last few chapters of that story to try and get my brain working again.
> 
> Thank you again for your patience.

Emma watched as Regina bent over a sleeping Henry and kissed his forehead. It tugged at her heart, watching how lovingly Regina stroked his head, squeezed his shoulder, wished him “dulces sueños” even though he wasn’t awake to hear it.

Regina looked up, having felt Emma’s eyes on her, straightening as she stepped away from her son.

“Did you want to say goodnight?” she whispered, as she neared the blonde.

“I uh- maybe already kissed him goodnight as I was carrying him up the stairs.”

The trio had been chatting in the living room after sharing dinner together, Emma watching as Henry got progressively quieter before ultimately falling asleep. It was she who offered to carry him upstairs rather than waking him to walk up, wanting to hold him close after being away from him for so long and hurting him so much. Emma had snuck a kiss and a soft cuddle before placing him in bed and backing away so that Regina could wish him sweet dreams.

Regina gave her a look that Emma couldn’t quite decipher before she finally ushered her out of the boy’s room, softly closing the door.

“Shall we go back to the living room?”

“Sure, unless you want me to go home now that Henry’s sleeping?”

“I believe we have some things to discuss, miss Swan.”

Emma’s heart sank when Regina used the title, rather than her name.

“Emma,” Regina corrected, when she noticed the other woman’s expression.

Emma gave a slight smile then and nodded.

“I think you’re right.”

Regina made her way to the kitchen to make some cocoa, telling Emma to have a seat in the living room while she made them a drink. Emma did, rubbing her hands between her knees as she tried not to think about how much this felt like she was sitting in the principal’s office, awaiting her execution.

Regina entered the living room a few minutes later, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of cocoa and a plate of pastries. Emma’s eyes lit up when she spotted the desserts, her stomach growling and reminding her that her bowl of canned Heinz Zoodles from this morning was long gone. Regina, having heard the growl, cocked an eyebrow at Emma as she set down the tray.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like something more substantial than braided Danish pastries?”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said, grabbing a dessert and immediately biting into it. She moaned heavily, quickly taking another bite. “These are amazing.”

Regina rolled her eyes at the practically unintelligible utterance, shaking her head at Emma’s lack of manners. She grabbed her cup of cocoa and blew into it, taking a small sip before putting it back down and turning towards the other woman.

“Thank you for speaking to Henry tonight.”

Emma nodded, chewing more slowly before swallowing.

“Thanks for not slamming the door in my face when you first saw me.”

“You can thank Henry for that.”

Emma smirked.

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

A small silence fell over the room, Emma picking at her pastry and peeling off the top layer of dough before popping it into her mouth. She chewed it before continuing.

“I’m sorry for hurting him, Regina. It really wasn’t my intention.”

“I know. I knew it all these weeks as well. I know it wasn’t your intention. He’s a sensitive little boy, however, and the fact that you pushed him away hurt him deeply.”

Emma’s stomach turned, so she put the dessert down as she was suddenly not very hungry. She nodded slowly, thinking for a moment before speaking.

“I know. I guess I was so wrapped up in myself that… I didn’t really see it. I didn’t want to see it, either, I guess.”

Regina waited, and when Emma offered nothing more, she spoke.

“What affected you so greatly that you felt the need to push everyone away? That you felt the need to escape?”

Emma’s fingers trembled as she lowered her head, picking at her jeans. A lump formed in her throat, and so she reached for her cocoa, taking a gulp and swallowing back the tears that formed as the burning liquid scalded her throat. She sat for a moment and waited for the pain to subside before putting the mug back down and finally speaking.

“Christmas is always really hard for me. For lots of reasons. And it makes me wanna just… run away.”

“Why?”

“It reminds me of a lot of bad times. Brings up all these old feelings from when I was a kid. I’m never really happy at Christmas. So it’s better if I just get away.”

“Get away from what?”  

“Everyone. And… the memories. The feelings.”

“What sorts of memories and feelings?”

Emma eyed Regina then, who was looking at her so patiently.

“Christmas is just another reminder that I don’t belong.”

Regina frowned, but she didn’t say anything, waiting for Emma to continue.

“I got placed with a lot of families that already had kids,” Emma started, softly, “their own kids, and even if I didn’t already know I wasn’t one of my foster parents’ kids, they made it really clear while I was living at their house that I wasn’t one of theirs. Especially when it was a special event, and Christmas was no different, except it was worse because Christmas is just… made out to be so magical and this time for family and for me, it just wasn’t. It sucked.

“I didn’t usually get presents and if whatever family I was with went out, I didn’t usually get an invite. And if they did have to bring me for whatever reason, I had to sit on a couch or on a chair the whole night and watch people open presents or do whatever Christmas tradition they did. I was never allowed to participate. I can’t tell you how many Christmases that happened to me. Some people have really good foster families but... I didn’t. The ones I was in, they did because it “looked good” to help a poor orphan or, for most of them, they did it for the money. But it wasn’t really much money – or so they told me – definitely not enough to buy me gifts anyway. So on Christmas morning, it was kind of… horrible really. For me. I’d get up and stare at the mountain of presents, and I hoped just one was for me. I didn’t care what it was- just something. I’d find a place in a corner and watch my foster parents’ kids open gifts and hope they’d read the name and one might be mine, but more often than not, there was nothing for me. In some families, my foster siblings would let me play with one of their toys, but I couldn’t open the package or anything, just sort of hold it and imagine what I’d do with the toy if I could open it.”

Emma sat quietly for a moment before continuing.

“But then one year, I did get something. A whole bunch of gifts actually. It was one of the worst Christmases I ever had. I never wished for anything after that one.” Emma took a deep breath for courage before she opened up about one of her most hurtful memories. “One of the foster families I was placed with got together with everyone in their family that Christmas. All these cousins and aunts and uncles and stuff, they all got together and everyone opened their gifts together. And that year, I got a whole bunch of stuff. I’m talking like, the good stuff, really nice clothes and these awesome toys and colouring books. Stickers and gel pens and crafts… all these things that I had never gotten before, ever. I couldn’t believe all this stuff was mine, that I had actually for once gotten not just one present, but a whole bunch of them. I would have been happy with even just one thing, like the beautiful doll with long blonde hair that they got me. I had never liked dolls before but suddenly, since she was mine, I loved her. And I was so grateful that I couldn’t stop hugging my foster parents and just staring at the gifts I had gotten. Part of it felt like it was some kind of… trap, because they weren’t nice to me, but they kept saying that these things were mine and I kept touching the boxes, and they were real. They weren’t my imagination.

“My foster parents told all us kids not to open anything because, you know, we weren’t at home and they didn’t want all these boxes opened and stuff or for us to lose any pieces, so they said to leave the gifts alone and to watch tv and just play with other stuff. I kept staring at the things I got though, looking at the boxes, and I couldn’t wait to get home to just… play with the stuff.”

Emma got quiet then, looking down at her hands. Regina waited, bracing herself, for she knew the story didn’t end well.

“When we got home, we went right to bed because it was so late. I fell asleep with all my toys and books and clothes on the bed next to me. I held the doll in the box too, held her all night long.” Emma’s voice sobered considerably as she spoke the next sentences. “I woke up the next day to nothing. I never even felt them take the box with the doll while I was sleeping. They returned everything they had gotten for me.” Emma gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, I guess, had gotten me for show. I guess since there were gonna be all these people around, they had to make it seem like I had gifts too. Couldn’t let the poor orphan kid get nothing when there were all these people watching, right?”

Emma looked away, jumping slightly when she felt a hand slip into her own. She refused to look at Regina, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes. She didn’t want her pity.

“Look at me please.”

Emma reluctantly turned her head, surprised to see fire in Regina’s eyes rather than the pity she was so used to seeing whenever she opened up to people (like Mary Margaret, which was why she had stopped talking to her about her past).

“I’m sorry that you went through such things, Emma. No child deserves to be treated so… I don’t have a word for how you were treated. No one deserves that, especially at a time, like you said, that is supposed to be magical for both children and adults alike.”

Emma nodded, looking down at their joined hands.

“I was given back at Christmas. It’s the real reason I hate Christmas. Why I’ve always hated it. My first family ruined it for me. The first family I ever had, they adopted me when I was a few weeks old. Gave me their last name. I thought they loved me. I was happy. I had this huge room, or what seemed huge to me as a little kid, with my own princess canopy bed. They were my parents. And I still remember them even though I’ve been told there’s no way I really do. That I can’t remember them because I was so young when they gave me back. But you never forget that: being given away.” Emma looked away, taking her hand back. “I called them mama and daddy. And I loved them. And they gave me away when they got pregnant with their own child. They gave me back five days before Christmas. That was the first Christmas I got no gifts, because it was too close to Christmas I guess for my foster parents to go get me anything. I learnt pretty quick that Santa wasn’t real and Christmas wasn’t everything it was made out to be.”

Regina bit hard on her lip, gathering her composure before she spoke.

“How old were you when your parents gave you away?”

“Three. Which is why everyone tells me I can’t remember that couple, the Swans. But I do. Just like I remember that she loved country music and used to sing it to me all the time, especially before bed. It’s why I can’t stand to hear it, not for a second. It just… does something to me.”

Regina filed that piece of information away for later before finally reaching out and pulling Emma into her arms. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I am so sorry, Emma. I don’t have words.”

Emma stayed stiff for a moment before relaxing, hesitantly wrapping her arms around Regina’s middle.

“I know what it feels like to be rejected. I always told myself I wouldn’t be that person. I would never do that. And I did it to Henry.”

Emma stopped speaking, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clamped down on her quivering bottom lip. She squeezed her eyes shut when Regina began stroking her head, tears continuing to fall.

“Henry was hurt and he felt rejected. However, there is one important detail to note between your foster parents and yourself: you have control over your actions. You cannot control what your foster parents did to you, nor can you change the past. But, you can change your own behaviour and ensure that Henry doesn’t again feel disappointed or hurt or rejected by you. You’ve learnt an important lesson. You’re still allowed to feel the need to be alone, to feel like you need some time for yourself. However, if you know you will need a significant amount of time, perhaps you can try communicating that to those of us that care about you. He hurt because he cares, Emma. As do I.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you too, Regina,” Emma said softly.

When Regina stayed quiet, Emma looked up at her.

“Did I hurt you?”

Regina, fighting every one of her desires to lie, ultimately ended up telling the truth.

“You did.”

Emma looked down, nodding.

“I thought so. I’m sorry, Regina,” she said, looking back up at her. “I really am. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

“No, you should not have. I forgive you, however, if you promise that next time you will try to talk to me.”

Emma nodded.

“I know you tried reaching out. I just… didn’t know what to say. And I needed to be alone. And then the more time passed, the more I really didn’t know how to talk to you or how to explain.”

Regina moved her hand to begin rubbing Emma’s back.

“I understand that you have trauma in your past, Emma. And that trauma continues to affect you today, as mine affects me. We will both make mistakes, I highly doubt this will be the last time we have a conflict or accidentally hurt one another, but the one thing we can try is to work on our communication.”

“How are you so wise?”

“I was born brilliant,” Regina said, smiling softly.

Emma laughed, sitting up slightly to look at Regina in the eye.

“Thank you. For listening to me and for giving me a second chance.”

“You’re welcome, Emma.”

“Will you tell me one day… about your past?”

Regina hesitated, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly, thinking. She hadn’t talked about her “big secret” in over fifteen years, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever truly be ready to tell Emma. But, Emma had opened up to her in a significant way tonight, in a way Regina suspected the woman had not to anyone else, not in a very long time at any rate, and so she finally slowly nodded.

“Yes, Emma, I do believe one day I will.”   


End file.
